With This Ring
by Dream's Light
Summary: While on a diplomatic mission, Yuuri and Wolfram visit a merchant's shop, but it isn't Wolfram who walks out.
1. Chapter 1: Shopping

Summary: While on a diplomatic mission, Yuuri and Wolfram visit a merchant's shop, but it isn't Wolfram who walks out.

_AN: I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit. Thanks to everyone who's read my first one-shot story, __**Evidence**__. This time I'm trying a chaptered story. Italics = telepathic communication. Enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

**With This Ring**

**Chapter 1: Shopping**

Entrow had been grinning hard enough to split his cheek muscles for days now. Ever since word came down from the palace that King Jaida had placed his clothier on the royal tour. The Maoh and his entourage would come to his shop. He would be the first clothing merchant to display his wares. If he impressed the Demon King, perhaps sold him or one of this people a suit or gown, and they wore it to the banquet, it could mean priority, possibly exclusive, trade contracts, a definite upsurge in business from Aeriemille nobility. His future would be paved in gold!

So he'd spent the last two weeks driving his apprentices and journeymen into the wee hours until every rack and dress dummy sported the very best he had to offer. Everyone else was home getting much needed sleep but he couldn't resist one final inspection and a few tweaks.

He was busy restitching a strand of seed pearls to the shoulder of a cream lace blouse when a cold shudder crawled up his spine. Entrow looked up to find himself encircled by three men wearing floor-length black capes with deep hoods that masked their features in shadow. How had they gotten in? He'd locked the doors himself.

"Is…. Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?"

"Yes, Master Entrow," the shortest one said.

The clothier could just make out the icy smile in the dark cavern of the hood. The sight sent his stomach plummeting to his feet…

"We'd like to borrow your shop."

… and the rest of him followed into darkness.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Wolfram walked beside Yuuri, making sure the enthusiastic citizens of Aeriemille didn't get too close. He had to admit that King Jaida's troups meshed well with theirs and were doing an excellent job of maintaining a safe zone around the royal party.

On Yuuri's other side, King Jaida happily explained what each shop they passed sold, which she personally favored, and which offered products that the people of Shin Makoku might be interested in as trade goods.

Unlike far too many rulers of his acquaintance, Jaida was sensible. Instead of the finery meant to impress or domineer that others had chosen in the past when giving them a tour of their capitals, she wore practical knee-high boots, breeches and a tunic all of serviceable materials and colors. Only the simple coronet she wore evidenced her status. Her long russet hair hung in a single braid that reached past the small of her back. No doubt tomorrow her dressers would spend hours transforming their king into something more elegant, but for now she was relaxed and enjoying the day with them.

Wolfram found himself liking Jaida more the longer he was in her company, starting with their initial meeting. Seeing how nervous his fiancé was, struggling to remember the formal greeting Gunter and Gwendal had tried to drill into him for the moment, she'd smiled brightly at Yuuri, reached out, and took his hands in hers.

"Welcome, Majesty, to Aeriemille. I'm sure you and your people must be exhausted. Let's set aside the formalities until tomorrow. You rooms are ready, hot baths waiting. When you're refreshed, and if you're willing, I will give you a tour of my capital. We'll get to know each other a bit before protocol ties us into knots."

And her eyes and smile had included him. Most of the other monarchs meeting the Demon King tired to delegate his position to guardsman. Not surprising. They had candidates of their own for consideration as mate to the Maoh. To them, he was an inconvenience at best, and obstacle to be rid of by any means at the worst.

Wolfram appreciated how Jaida made sure he was part of her conversation with Yuuri. Pointing out shops she thought he might be interested in, asking for his take on the topics they were discussing.

Most of all, he noticed that Yuuri was… _Yuuri_ with her. Over the years, his wimp had become more aware of ulterior motives behind the smiles of the dignitaries he had to deal with. Not to the point where he could play the game on his own yet, but enough to be miserable over the innuendos sent his way and the sly insults aimed at his fiancé.

Yuuri was truly enjoying King Jaida's company, and because of that, so was he. Wolfram sincerely hoped that the talks would work out between their nations. Yuuri could use more close friends of his own rank.

Feeling watched, Wolfram blinked out of his thoughts to see Yuuri's black-black eyes peering into his own. The Maoh's lips rose into a smirk when he realized he had Wolfram's attention.

"Earth to Wolfram."

"What?"

"Never mind, I'll explain it later. Jaida says this is her favorite clothing shop. I want to see if I can find a gift for Greta here. She's growing up so fast."

One of her guardsmen opened the door for them and Jaida led the way inside. "Oh, I'm sure you'll find something to suit your daughter. Master Entrow is the best clothier in the kingdom. His designs have filled my wardrobe since I was old enough to choose my own clothes. I'll be wearing one of his creations at tomorrow night's reception. Entrow!"

"My King! I welcome you and your guests to my shop." The short, slightly rounded man gave a courtly bow, exposing the bald spot crowning his gray head. "Please, look around. Ask any question that comes to your mind. I and my apprentices are at your service."

Yuuri gave the man his trademark smile, the one that said you were his new best friend. "I'm looking for a gift for my daughter. She's twelve, about this tall but growing fast. It should be a grownup dress. But not too grown up…"

Wolfram tuned out the conversation and wandered the shop, browsing the racks. When they'd first walked in, he'd felt as if he'd stepped into an explosion of cloth and color. But the more familiar he became with the set up, the more he appreciated the master clothier's madness. Once in his lair, a shopper couldn't help but take a closer look. And when the slightest sign of interest was displayed, one of the sales clerks, all of whom wore unadorned silver-gray suits that made them easy to spot amidst the riot of colors that made of the clothier's shop, was ready to assist in any way they can.

He was about to move on to the next stand of clothing when his eye caught a deep green sleeve. Reaching for the attached hanger, he pulled out a velvet waistcoat. An incredibly realistic pattern of ivy stitched in ribbon and beadwork twined up the sleeves, across the shoulders, and around the Nehru collar to arrow down in a V over the chest.

"It suits your coloring, My Lord," Entrow commented, impressing Wolfram with his ability to keep track of multiple customers simultaneously.

Yuuri turned to him from the selection of gowns the master clothier had selected and grinned from ear to ear.

"Master Entrow is right, Wolf. It matches your eyes. Try it on. If you like it, it's yours. My treat. And I'll explain that later too."

Wolfram thought he should say no, but it was a very nice jacket. And Yuuri liked it. One of the salesclerks, a tall, reedy man with intense blue eyes, stepped forward and pointed to the back of the shop. "Alphonse, at your service, my Lord. Dressing rooms are through here, my Lord. If you will follow me?"

He didn't need more encouragement. The clerk led him through a maze of clothing racks and stands to a small room in the back that had been divided into three stalls with curtains for privacy. It smelled of fresh sawdust.

"This is a new idea of my Master's. He had it built for the Maoh's visit. Unfortunately, contractors being what they are and everyone having special projects they wanted completed for your visit, the workmen aren't quite finished yet." Alphonse took the coat from Wolfram and held open the curtain of the center stall. "I will serve as your valet. Let me know when you're ready to try it on."

Wolfram thanked him, stepped into the dressing stall and began to undo his uniform jacket, resisting the urge to snap at the man who, with a captive audience, continued his one-sided conversation in an overloud drone that could drive a saint to mayhem.

"In time, the curtains will be replaced with imported aromatic woods. Each stall will have three floor-to-ceiling mirrors to allow our customers to see the full effect of Master Entrow's creations, dress hooks for their own garb, and a bench for sitting when needed."

His attackers chose their moment with coordinated precision.

One grabbed him from behind, one massive hand clamping over his mouth and nose, the other twisting his jacket, effectively transforming it into shackles. The second emerged from the left booth to grapple his kicking legs before he got in a decent blow.

As Wolfram fought them, he caught glimpses of the beanpole clerk whose rambling monologue never faltered throughout the assault, masking any sounds he might have gotten past the suffocating hand. His face was empty, the eyes were glassy and unblinking. Spelled or drugged. Whatever he was seeing, it wasn't what was in front of him.

Then a third man stepped out of the right booth garbed in a dressing gown and wielding a long needle dripping with a sickly yellow ichor. The one behind him forced Wolfram's head back and his accomplice drove it into the exposed side of his neck.

In three heartbeats, Wolfram felt himself losing the ability to move or speak. No! He had to warn Yuuri! Desperate, he called fire, only to sense it surge then fizzle to nothing.

Panic rising, he intensified his struggles, but the two men holding him easily overcame his failing resistance. It wasn't long before he lay limp in their arms, fighting now just to remain conscious.

Two of his attackers wrestled him to the floor and began stripping him of down to his underwear, tossing his clothes to the smallest of them who immediately slipped out of the black robe he wore and proceeded to don them.

It didn't make sense. The man was his build, but with his dark skin, pale gray eyes, and brown hair, there was no way he could pass for Wolfram long enough to get close to Yuuri before the Maoh in him woke to defend him. The fire demon knew a moment of relief.

But it didn't last.

Smiling like a predator, the man in his clothes crouched beside him. He held his left hand in front of Wolfram's face. On his third finger, he wore a double ring. It was shaped like two intertwined serpents, one of yellow gold, the other of red gold. Exquisite in detail with layered scales and cabochon garnets for eyes. Wolfram would have admired the artistry of the jewelry, but even with his magic blocked, he felt the malevolence imbued in the bands.

The three men began a whispered chant in a language Wolfram didn't recognize as if with one voice. The sensation of evil coming off the ring intensified. And red cabochon eyes blinked at him, trapping his gaze.

Wolfram stared in horror as one of the other men raised left arm and laced their fingers together. Coiling and pulsing with the chanting, the serpents raised fanged heads. Frantic, Wolfran tried to pull his hand free, only managing a faint twitch that caused the spellcaster to arch and eyebrow and tighten his grip.

The red-hued snake separated from its golden twin and slithered onto Wolfram's hand, encircling his ring finger, jaws agape, waiting. Its mate took the same position on the other man's hand.

They bit down simultaneously.

He would have screamed if he still had the ability. Searing pain literally blinded him. It drove into him through his entire body even as his blood mingled with his captor's. The spell crawled into his nerves, convulsing his body, and piercing his mind in a violation more intense than he had ever thought possible.

It tore open every thought, every memory, and fed back through the ring and into…

"…urry up, Wolfram. How long does it take to try on a jacket?"

"Be patient, wimp. I'll be out in a minute!"

That was … _his_ voice! But he wasn't speaking. What…?

A brutal grip on his wrist pulled him off the floor and onto unsteady feet. In the seconds before he was slung over the big man's broad shoulders, Wolfram saw himself making final adjustments to the drape of the waistcoat he had admired. His own emerald green eyes stared blinked at him and a stranger's voice ghosted into his head before the imposter left to rejoin his fiancé.

_Check. Mate in two._

Then he was carried out the back door of the clothier's shop and bundled into a waiting delivery wagon that unhurriedly left the walled city, unnoticed and unremarked.

As he lost consciousness, Wolfram realized to his dismay that the entire snatch and switch had taken less than ten minutes.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Holding a frilly burgundy party dress against his hip, trying to decide if it would fit Greta, Yuuri looked up as Wolfram returned from the dressing room area wearing the green coat that had caught his eye. He spun briefly like a model at the end of a runway and raised a sardonic brow. Behind him, the skinny clerk who'd attended him bore his blue uniform jacket over his arm and a very self-satisfied smile on his face. Sure of a sale and the commission no doubt.

And seeing how well it fit and looked on his fiancé, Yuuri had to admit the man had reason for his expections.

Wolfram looked… magnificent. Okay, that may have been a bit over the top. But Yuuri had always seen him either in uniform, the much simpler disguise of peasant garb when they traveled incognito, or that inappropriate nightgown he chose to wear at night. This was how a prince out of a fairy tale must look. He half expected Cinderella to come sweeping into the shop to entrust him with her glass slipper.

"It's perfect. You ought to wear green more often. It suits you. Buy it."

Wolfram traced the edge of a leaf at this wrist. "You do fine work, Master Entrow. I appreciate the compliment, Yuuri, but we are shopping for our daughter, remember?"

Yuuri opened his mouth to argue him into it but then had a better idea. Instead, he said, "Oka. So which of these do you think Greta will like?" and held up the burgundy dress and a deep blue one with an empire waist and pale blue satin insets.

Removing the waistcoat and exchanging it for his own, which the clerk had been holding for him. He missed or ignored the disappointment on the clerk's face. The fire demon draped it over his arm and strode over for a better inspection of the dresses from close up. Just for an instant, Wolfram's face went blank, as if there was no one at home in his head. Yuuri blinked and Wolfram's usual thinking scowl was back.

"The blue. Greta's getting too old for frills."

"Blue it is." Yuuri turned to the clothier. "How much?"

The pure glee on Master Entrow's face as he wrapped the dress himself, was almost embarrassing. "Why don't I set up an account for Your Majesty and your party. I'm sure you have many more stops to make on your tour and don't want to spend all your cash in one place. The climes of Aeriemille are vastly cooler than you are used to in the Demon Kingdom. If you find a need to supplement your wardrobes during your visit, it will be most convenient for you, yes?"

And increase the chances of our doing business with you. Yuuri totally understood that he was a businessman first and foremost so had no trouble with taking his suggestions. So Jaida had advised him before they set out on their shopping trip.

"Sounds good. I'll have someone come down from the castle tomorrow to make the arrangements and pick up the dress." He followed Master Entrow to the payment counter. Making sure Wolfram, back in his own coat and standing impatiently at the door, was out of earshot, he added in a whisper, "Add the waistcoat to the order, have both ready for pickup tomorrow."

Master Entrow gave him a conspirator's wink, "Of course, Your Majesty."

Yuuri winked back and turned grinning to Wolfram and Jaida. "Okay, where to next?"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The sun was setting spectacularly behind the mountains to the west in an intense array of oranges, pinks, and purples dancing behind the peaks when they returned to Jaida's castle. His feet hurt and all Yuuri wanted to do was go to bed. But Gwendal, Gunter, and Conrart were lying, or rather, standing, in wait for him. And by the scowl on Gwendal's face, he guessed they'd been waiting for some time.

"Uh, hi, guys. What's up?"

His chief adviser frowned down at him, "If might behoove your Majesty to keep his itinerary in mind when traveling on state business."

Yuuri just stared, clueless to what he was talking about.

Gunter explained, "We were to meet this afternoon to review before tomorrow's meetings. Wolfram, part of your duties to our Maoh is to keep him on track."

Turning to his fiancé, Yuuri fully expected to head off a snide outburst, but to his surprise, all Wolfram did was give a defacing nod.

"You are right. I have no excuse, I should have kept better track of the time."

Jaida chimed in, "I am to blame as well. I tried to showcase all of my city's attributes in one day. Blame pride of country."

"Guys, you have to go yourselves," he endorsed her opinion. "It's like a mall back home. Only it's all outside. And the food at the different inns and booths. You've got to try everything! There's this pastry place that…"

"Wolfram?" Conrart's worried voice interrupted him. He was frowning as he leaned forward to look more closely at his little brother. "Are you alright? You look a little pale."

Looking back at his shopping buddy, Yuuri had to agree and felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn't noticed himself.

"I'm fine, just tired." Wolfram covered his eyes with his right hand, massaging his temples with thumb and ring finger. "If you don't mind, I'll pass on tonight's session and get a few extra hours of sleep. I'll be the better for it in the morning."

"Of course, go ahead," Yuuri approved before Gwendal or Gunter had a chance to argue that, as fiancé to the Maoh, he needed to be part of all strategy sessions. "This is just to be sure I have all the names and customs of the other dignitaries we'll be meeting tomorrow, right? Wolfram already knows all that stuff."

"Very well," Gwendal grumbled, but Yuuri didn't miss the concern in the glance he sent his youngest brother's way. "I'll go over anything new that comes up with you over breakfast."

"I bid you all good night, then." Wolfram bowed to King Jaida. "I thank you for a very pleasant day, your Majesty. I'm looking forward to spending more time with you in the days to come."

Yuuri arched his eyebrows as he watched Wolfram ascend the staircase with his escort for the suite of rooms assigned to them. Now why couldn't he pull off the Lord thing half as well as that?

Jaida's smile included them all when she spoke up. "I too will part to retire to my chambers. I pray you do not stay up too late, my Lords. Tomorrow is bound to be a busy and eventful day."

"Be sure we will not be long." Taking her slender hand in his, Yuuri bowed over it and brushed the knuckles with his lips, just as Gunter had grilled into him for days before their departure from the Demon Kingdom. "May your dreams tonight be pleasant and leave you refreshed and renewed."

The lovely king of Aeriemille smiled gently. "You are most gracious, Majesty. May the same hold true for you and yours." The she too left them.

With that, Yuuri turned to his companions. "Alright then, let's get this over with so we can all go to bed."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Once alone in the room Wolfram shared with King Yuuri, the imposter gave a shuddering sigh and supported his weight with the door at his back. Sweat beaded his forehead and he had to fight the urge to vomit.

Something was definitely wrong.

The demon prince, even with the drugs meant to keep him quiescent, was resisting, trying to fool him with false memories and struggling to block him from vital information. That was to be expected, it was the bouts of dizziness and nausea that worried him. They had not been included in the list of symptoms they'd been warned to watch for.

His impersonation of the youngest had to be perfect. These demons were too sharp, especially the elder brothers. He had to get control or they would be scrutinizing his every move out of concern for Wolfram's health. He dared not let anything compromise their assignment.

A fire had been laid on the hearth of the bedroom. He had a few hours before Yuuri's return. Settling in one of the leather chairs in front of the fireplace, he sparked a flint over the tinder. The well-cured wood was soon blazing, and he settled in to wait for his comrades to contact him.

[end ch. 1]

_AN: Someone's gone to a lot of trouble to infiltrate Yuuri's inner circle. But why, and what has happened to the real Wolfram? Learn more in __**Chapter 2: Plotting in the Shadows**__._

_Thank you sharing this adventure with me. I plan to update approximately every two weeks, sooner if I make good progress. Please review and let me know what you think. See you soon!_


	2. Chapter 2: Plotting in the Shadows

Summary: While on a diplomatic mission, Yuuri and Wolfram visit a merchant's shop, but it isn't Wolfram who walks out.

_AN: I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit. _

_Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter of __**With This Ring,**__ especially those who reviewed it. You've given me new ideas for the future chapters that will make this an even better story. Please read, enjoy, and review. Thanks again!_

**With This Ring**

**Chapter 2: Plotting in the Shadows**

Cramps tore at his guts as his body tried again to expel what was no longer there. This was the sixth time his kidnappers had been forced to stop and haul him to the side of the road to be sick. Still bound by whatever drug they'd used to paralyze him, Wolfram could only lie limp in their arms as they tried to give him water only to have it come up again. An icy hand pressed against his forehead.

"He's fevered now," one of the men hissed. "Not good. We need him coherent for this to work. This isn't one of the reactions they told us to expect."

"Our tests were done with humans. As far as I know, the ring bond has never been cast on a Demon. We may all look alike but there are differences. My guess?" A calloused finger pulled his eyelid up and the tall skeletal one peered into Wolfram's face. He nodded as if whatever he saw confirmed his thinking. "Demon physiology is more sensitive to the venom. Have you noticed? The ring pulls knowledge from him, the brat pukes. The side effects of the spell must be making the venom more potent."

Pain knifed through his skull as his imposter stole more memories from him. Wolfram stomach heaved again, his body writhing on the ground. The shorter man cursed, rather colorfully.

"So what do we do?" he asked his companion.

"Stop here until the venom's worked through his system. We're not going to be able to keep him dosed as we planned."

Looking blearily up at his captor through his eyelashes, Wolfram saw their worried frowns.

Good. Whatever the reason, if this sickness screwed up their plans, he'd welcome it.

Shorter One shook his head, "The Brethren will not be pleased if we miss the rendezvous."

"They will be even less pleased if we fail in our mission. There will be other ships. Get the carriage off the road and as deep into the brush as you can. We'll set up camp and make contact as agreed. We'll adjust our plans then."

Wolfram felt them lift him up, causing nausea to surge once more. Desperately, he focused everything he had on not throwing up again. Shinou, this was worse than any seasickness he'd ever suffered before. His vision went dark and when it cleared again, he realized he must have passed out. It was night. He lay on his side under a coarse blanket with his back to what felt like a tree.

A small near smokeless campfire burned a few strides from him. His captors hunched around it, talking. With exhaustion trying to drag him back into unconsciousness, it took Wolfram several minutes to recognize that he was hearing three voices. One was coming from the flames that he now realized were burning blue, his own voice sounding somehow brittle.

"…till undetected. The Demon King may be a naïve fool, but his companions are not. The half-human brother, Conrart, nearly caught me when I tried to access the prince's memories. Thankfully, he thought 'Wolfram' had taken ill. I didn't disabuse them of the notion. It gave me a good excuse to get free of them before I gave myself away. Unfortunately, he wasn't far from the truth. What is going on?"

"We think the venom is more potent in Demons."

"Or perhaps he is reacting adversely to the ring bond. We worked out that whenever you drew on the ring's power to access his mind, it triggered a fit. The last time, before he fainted, he went into convulsions."

"No doubt because I had to dig hard to break through the defenses he keeps throwing up against my intrusions. The little freak is fighting harder than ought to be possible. Where are you now?"

"We're camped out of sight about seven miles outside the capital waiting for the venom to clear his system. Unfortunately this means our ship will be long gone by the time we reach the port."

"Then hijack the fastest vessel docked when you get there. If he is found, it all falls apart. And these developments make it imperative that you get the fire demon home. Our masters will need a subject to determine what went wrong."

Tall One turned his way. Wolfram closed his eyes too late. "He's awake."

"How much did he hear?"

"Does it matter?"

"The venom should be diluted enough to let you get what you need to continue the impersonation. But without the venom, the ring bond will work both ways. You will need to guard against _his_ intrusions."

"Can't be helped. The mission at all costs. Prepare him."

The fire reverted to its proper hues. The two kidnappers stood, one retrieving a coil of rope that had been at his side, out of Wolfram's line of sight. When they turned to him, Wolfram tried to back away or at least put up some kind of resistance. His arms moved for him but his legs still refused to cooperate. He managed a feeble blow to Shorter One's nose, earning him a painful jab to the kidneys, before they pinned him to the ground by wrists and ankles.

Once again the men began to chant. The cursed ring on his finger came alive again, writhing and pulsing as the fangs sank deeper, striking through muscle to scrape bone. Once again a hand over his mouth trapped his screams as something cold and somehow slimy crawled from the heart of the pain in his hand, up his arm to his neck, into his head. And leered into his thoughts.

[Whatever you're up to, I won't cooperate.] Wolfram shaped his response to the deeper invasion with all the bravado he could summon.

[Your cooperation is not required. While we wear the rings, nothing you do can keep me out for long.]

The invader took form, like an afterimage cast by an intense burst of light, ghosting across the back of his eyes. Wolfram saw/felt it reach for him. He fled from it, a sensation like falling forever. But it was always in his wake, getting closer with every beat of his heart.

Tendrils of it reached out to ensnare him, pull him close and entangle him in its heart until he feared there would be no separation from it.

[I see all that you are, Wolfram von Bielefeld. I touch all that you are. I know all that you are. And when the sun rises, I will have so much of you that no one will ever be able to tell the difference.]

Beyond his senses, Wolfram knew his body had ceased its struggles and made no resistance when the other two men bound his wrists and ankles, tied a gag in his mouth, and bundled him into the coach and out of sight.

[Why are you doing this? What do you want?]

[War] whispered through his brain. [What better trigger than the assassination of a monarch under the shield of diplomacy at the hand of the man closest to the Demon King, the so-called bringer of peace?]

[No.]

[Be glad you bid a proper goodbye to the child you call your daughter. Perhaps that memory will comfort her when she learns her Papa Wolfram is the greatest traitor in Shin Makoku history.]

[NO!]

Imposter overwhelmed his last defenses and for a very long time, all Wolfram knew was despair.

-o0O0o-

Yuuri stretched his arms high above his head, fighting a yawn that he feared would dislocate his jaw if he indulged it.

"Come on, guys. We've been at this for hours. My head's so full of facts they're starting to leak out of my ears." He pointed accusingly, "Even the Great Wise Man is nodding off."

Elbows on the table, chin resting on the heels of his hands, eyes closed – the picture of complete repose – Murata replied without a trace of sleep in his voice. "I am not nodding off. I am concentrating so I can be the Nancy to your Ronald when you forget what to say."

Only Conrart knew about the President Reagan news footage and smiled. Everyone else, used to the pair's sporadic insertions of Earth references in conversations, ignored it and moved on.

"That will be most appreciated, Geika," Gwendal nodded and he scanned his meeting notes. "King Jaida may want this alliance, but her advisors and the Council of Lords are another matter."

"True enough," Yosak agreed from his place in a shadowed section of the common room assigned to their party. He had actually come to Aeriemille several weeks before their arrival, getting the lay of the land and learning all the things they couldn't work out reading between the lines of the communications between the two countries. Officially he wasn't part of the delegation, but Yuuri hadn't been surprised to find him waiting with Murata when they came here for this meeting, leaning nonchalantly against the wall and juggling the magical spying artifacts they had found in a sweep of the room and disabled.

"Some don't trust us," the spy continued. "Or they don't trust King Jaida. There are whispers about the previous King's death. People are afraid but no one seems to know why. The situation here is more complicated than we'd anticipated."

Gunter closed his eyes, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows with a sigh. "Let's call it a night as His Majesty suggests. Have Wolfram go over Gwendal's notes first thing in the morning so he is fully informed for tomorrow's meetings."

"Will do!"

Yuuri took the stack of papers Gwendal handed to him and rushed out the door before anyone thought of something else to cover, Murata on his heels. Behind him, he heard indulgent chuckles.

"Why can't they remember I'm a growing boy? I need lots of sleep and even more to eat. I am starving!"

Murata shrugged, pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, and draped an arm over his shoulders. "If you eat now, you won't sleep well and you'll be miserable in the morning. And that's no shape to be in when a mob of dressers is nipping and tucking you into formal regalia."

"Ugh! Don't remind me! You and everybody else can wear regular clothes. At least compared to the outfit Gunter's making me wear. Have you seen that… that nightmare of fluff and ribbons?"

"Thus the need for a good night's sleep. You are the one everyone will be watching so you have to make the best impression."

"How fair is that?"

Murata teased, "It sucks to be the King!"

"You're a double black too. If I hadn't rescued you back then, it would have been you face down in a toilet bowl, and you'd be in this mess instead of me."

"Doubt it. And quiet down. Wolfram's probably asleep. You don't want to wake him."

Yuuri gasped and slapped his forehead. "The clothier!"

"Who?"

"I bought some things at the some of the shops we went to with Jaida. I was supposed to send someone to pick everything up. And set up store accounts. And…"

"We're going to be here for weeks, Shibuya. Deal with it later."

Yuuri shook his head. "One of the things is a jacket for Wolfram. He didn't want me to buy it for him, but I could tell he really liked it."

His friend clasped his hands under his chin and gave him a big grin and puppy dog eyes. "Oh, how sweet!"

"Murata! Anyway, he looks great in it and I thought I'd give it to him tomorrow and he could wear it at the reception. Earn some brownie points. You know, let people see we like what they have to offer."

Murata's cheerful grin shifted slightly into thoughtful. "Pleasing your fiancé, promoting local business, thinking ahead." Then he popped him gently on the back of his head. "You're smarter than you look."

"Ha, ha!"

"Tell you what. I'll take care all of that for you. Since I'm here more as a courtesy than to serve as a delegate, I won't be expected to take part in all the morning meetings so I'll have the free time. Just get me a list in the morning."

"Thanks, Murata. I appreciate it. G'night."

His friend went to his room and Yuuri to the one he shared with the fire Demon. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to the guard stationed outside the door and stepped inside, closing it as softly as he could behind him. Though the sitting room was dark, he could make out the flicker of candlelight coming from the bed chamber.

Yuuri walked softly in case Wolfram's sleep was shallow enough for his movement to disturb him. But as he went through his night routine by the glow from the single candle on the bedside table his fiancé never moved. Yuuri frowned. In all the time he'd known him, the blonde boy had never slept quietly. He had the bruises to prove it. Except when he was injured. Or ill.

Concerned, he went to Wolfram's side of the bed, brushed aside the soft bangs to lay the back of his hand against his forehead. He was sweating slightly but he wasn't warmer than usual. Relieved, Yuuri started to pull away.

Wolfram's hand darted out and caught his wrist. His expression went from calmly peaceful to fearful anxiety. His eyes opened the barest slit, the soft light from the candle's flame sparking green beneath his lashes.

"Danger…Yuuri…"

A nightmare. Smiling softly, Yuuri soothed Wolfram's hair with his free hand and whispered, "It's alright, Wolf. Everybody is safe. It's just a bad dream. I'm here and safe."

After a bit, the grip on his wrist eased and Wolfram's hand fell back onto the covers. His eyes closed and he sank deeper into sleep.

Satisfied, Yuuri blew out the candle, climbed into bed next to him, and was asleep seconds after his head hit the pillows.

-o0O0o-

Furious, the assassin sent his rage through the serpent ring and into Wolfram's body. Even though the fire demon was miles away, he knew that the brat was writhing in agony until the rope binding his wrists and ankles darkened with his blood, screaming passed the gag though the sounds he managed didn't reach beyond the walls of his carriage prison.

He kept up the punishment until he sensed the makoku's rising fear peak. Then he whispered into the terrified mind.

[Try that again and Jaida will not be the only King to die tomorrow.]

When he sensed Wolfram's surrender, the assassin allowed himself a triumphant smile.

But it didn't last.

Prince Brat kept giving him unpleasant surprises. He'd actually held back a reserve of strength and waited until he slept to take control of his body and warn his Maoh. But he'd sensed the loss of control in time. This pampered prince had more determination than he'd expected. And power to back it up.

They'd feared this development when they ceased giving him the venom but not so soon. He'd subdued him for now but once he recovered his strength, Wolfram would try again. He knew what was at stake.

[Brothers.]

[Yes.]

[Dose him again at dusk. I don't want him interfering tonight. And be ready to pull out with or without me.]

-o0O0o-

Wolfram sprawled half on a seat and half on the floor of his carriage prison, his ragged breathing more like sobs as he struggled to recover from the convulsions spawned by Imposter's assault on his mind.

He'd been so close. Just a few more minutes…. But Imposter ended his attempt to warn Yuuri with brutal efficiency. Wolfram shuddered, remembering just how close he'd come to disaster. The assassin had been so intent on punishing him that he didn't guard his thoughts closely enough. For the first time Wolfram learned something instead of losing something. The torment ripping into him was more than punishment. It was meant to shred his sense of himself so badly that he'd need days to heal to even a semblance of normal, the disorientation leaving him unable to resist his captors until it was far too late.

Catching that thought saved him. Forewarned, Wolfram retreated instead of resisting. He took the despair, the fear, the panic. All of the dark emotions intended to break him. Wolfram pushed them away from himself, weaving them into thick shell that surrounded him.

He used it to show his captor what he wanted, expected to see. A spoiled prince cowed by brutal treatment, too scared to think, too devastated to fight, no danger to their plans. No threat at all.

For a few sickening moments, Wolfram had feared the man hiding behind his face saw through the false surrender. But then the assault eased and ended. Imposter withdrew on the heels of his ominous threat and Wolfram was blessedly alone in his head, at least for a while.

Wolfram lay still, letting them think him broken, too exhausted and hurt to warrant their guarded attention, and eavesdropped. He'd gotten grim satisfaction out of knowing how he frustrated his kidnappers until he realized it meant they intended to drug him again to prevent him interfering during the crucial time when they planned to strike.

Not good. It left him a very small window of opportunity to act. Wolfram needed to somehow force Imposter into betraying the ruse, hopefully near his brothers. They'd stop him and protect Yuuri and Jaida.

A verbal warning was out, not with the assassin conscious and doubly wary. His only option might not work and there was no chance to test it, to gauge how much force he'd need. It would have to be all or nothing. Strike hard and fast before the drug took full affect. If he played up his weakened state, Shorter One and Tall One might cut the dosage….

Wolfram felt the chill foreshadowing that preceded Imposter's return and quickly buried his plans deep behind his defenses before he sensed them.

[Naughty boy, you're still awake. Can't have you pulling another stunt like the last one.]

Imposter pressed down on his awareness and buried Wolfram in sleep.

-o0O0o-

_AN: The unknown enemy plans to assassinate the King of Aeriemille and lay the blame on the Demon Kingdom in hopes of triggering a war. Yuuri and company have less than a day to discover the plot, save two kingdoms, and get their Wolfram back. The plot deepens in __**Chapter 3: Misplaced Memories**__._

_I hope you enjoyed this installment. Please review and let me know what you think. The next chapter should be up by Halloween. See you then!_


	3. Chapter 3: Misplaced Memories

Summary: While on a diplomatic mission, Yuuri and Wolfram visit a merchant's shop, but it isn't Wolfram who walks out.

_AN: I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. This is written for fun, not for profit. _

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed __**With This Ring**__. Your encouragement inspires me and your suggestions and comments are helping me write a better story. Enjoy and please review!_

**With This Ring**

**Chapter 3: Misplaced Memories**

Murata pulled off his glasses to wipe the lenses with the tail of his shirt as he emerged from his room. The delicious smells from the breakfast buffet the servants set up in the main room of their suite had been more than enough to entice him out of sleep. He'd wasted no time washing and dressing for the day. And still Yuuri beat him to the punch.

His friend and King sat at the table writing on a sheet of paper between the dents he was making in the eggs, sausages, and pastries piled on his plate.

"Either the food is even better than it smells or you weren't kidding last night when you said you were starving." He put his glasses back on, took a plate from the waiting stack, and moved to do his part to make sure nothing was wasted.

"Right." Yuuri sounded distracted as he scribbled something out and wrote something new down.

Murata spooned up a nice pile of scrambled eggs, strips of the fried meat that served as this world's bacon, pancakes, and a glass of fruit juice.

"Are we the first ones up?" he asked as he took a seat across from the other boy.

"Hardly. You know what a workhorse Gwendal is. I'll bet he was already up at dawn. He and Conrad were heading out the door, thick as thieves, when I came in."

"Dealing with security issues not doubt." Murata took his first bite and moaned in appreciation. He'd have to see if he could get Jaida's cook to share some of their recipes. "How's Wolfram doing this morning?"

"Better, but I made him stay in bed for the morning."

Murata had to smile at the grimace on Yuuri's face. "He didn't take it well, huh."

"No. I had to order him as his Maoh not to get up." Yuuri rubbed the back of his head with a rueful expression. "Feather pillows aren't supposed to hurt that much."

Murata laughed when he imagined the scene, seeing goose down poofing out with the force that Wolfram must have put into the blow to drift about them like snow.

"It's not funny! I took him a breakfast tray. Most people like to be coddled once in a while."

"Wolfram is not most people," he reminded his off-and-on clueless friend. "He hates to be seen as week. Now if you did it when he wasn't feeling under the weather, I'm sure he'd be thrilled. Once he calms down, I'm sure he'll see it as a sign you care and he'll be just thrilled."

"Murata!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're just friends." Setting teasing aside for the moment, Murata asked, "Seriously, he said he was better. Why the enforced bed rest?"

Yuuri took a deep breath and released it in a sigh. "Look, I know this is going to sound weird, but Wolf's a little slow."

Murata arched an eyebrow at him, put another sporkful of eggs and bacon in his mouth, and waited for elaboration.

"You know how fast he is, how he reacts like that," his friend snapped his fingers. "Sometimes before his head has caught up with his actions."

He nodded his agreement. It was rooted in the nature of all fire wielders, and it helped make Wolfram a formidable swordsman in his own right.

"Well, he's been off. Not reacting as fast or as sharply as usual. I said something stupid just to get him to call me a wimp. Wolf paused. He actually hesitated. Only a fraction of a second, barely noticeable at all."

Murata waggled his eyebrows, "Except by you" and ate more eggs.

Yuuri blushed. "I'm sure Conrad or Gwendal would have too if they'd been there. And you notice everything."

"And you normally don't. Are you sure it's just friendship? They say lovers read each other like books."

"Cut it out! Wolfram had a nightmare last night so I bet he didn't sleep too well. And he was seasick all the way here. He needs more rest."

"Am I arguing with you?" Murata pointed at the paper Yuuri had been scribbling on. "That your shopping list?"

"Yeah," he scowled at it before pushing it across the table to him. "I wish I'd paid closer attention or maybe taken notes yesterday. I'm sure that's all the shops you'll need to go to, but they're not in any kind of order."

"No worries. I'll talk to the majordomo. I'm sure that between us, we can work out a map of the most efficient route." As he scanned the list, Murata's eyes widened. "And arrange a cart to carry it all back. Overboard much?"

Yuuri shrugged, giving him his trademark sheepish grin. But mischief lit his black eyes.

"Think of it as your contribution to the mission. And no peeking! I want the presents to be surprises and you can't help but drop hints when you know secrets."

True, he'd have to admit if he were honest with himself. "Fine. I'd better get going." Murata finished off what was on his plate and went back to the buffet to build a sandwich and wrap it in his napkin. Seeing Yuuri's stare – he normally ate light in the morning – he winked. "I will need sustenance to accomplish this mission in time to return and dress for tonight's reception."

He smirked at Yuuri's snort of disbelief and left the room. As he walked to the main entry to find someone to direct him to the majordomo's office, Murata scanned Yuuri's notes again with rising dismay. He'd only been half teasing his friend. Jaida must have taken Yuuri and Wolfram to every shop and market in the capital. The simple task might actually take all day.

-o0O0o-

As he put the dirty dishes on the stand provided, a door opened behind him. Yuuri looked over his shoulder to see Wolfram emerge, dressed and carrying the breakfast tray he'd brought him.

"You're supposed to be in bed."

"Stop treating me like an invalid. See?" he gestured with his chin to his burden. Most of the dishes had been cleaned off. "Healthy appetite. It's boring lying around when you're not sick. Besides, you need me at the meeting today. Gwendal and Gunter may be councilors but in Aeriemille, they cannot speak independently during face-to-face negotiations."

Yuuri nodded, "That's why all the drilling since Jaida's embassy arrived in the Demon Kingdom to arrange this meeting, because I couldn't consult them much once we got here."

Wolfram set the tray down and brushed his hands together to shed any stray crumbs. "But as your fiancé, I can make suggestions to you and help keep your head above the political waters."

"All true." Yuuri eyed his friend carefully. His color was good and he sounded like his old self. Still.

Wolfram continued, "Besides, I need to be sure they know you're spoken for."

Okay, maybe he is back to normal. "Oh, come on, Wolf!"

Gem green eyes flared at him. "Their King is young, single, and female. What better way to cement relations than a royal wedding. You like her. And she likes you. I'm sure the spies and gossips in our escort yesterday have the whole court whispering by now. Marriages have been built on less."

His own eyes went wide. "I don't like her that way!"

"Wimp. Here's another reason you need me with you. You're too naïve." Wolfram shook his head. "Do you really think anyone willing to spy on guests would consider your feelings? They will grab and take advantage of every opportunity they can seize." The jealousy had faded from Wolfram's face, replaced by the little smile that warmed the heart of the few people he bestowed that gift upon. "Come on, let's get going."

But this time it didn't reach his eyes. Yuuri bit his lip and braced for the storm. "I'll send word to Jaida. We can postpone the negotiations until tomorrow."

"No!" The golden hair flew to catch up with his head when Wolfram, already halfway to the door, snapped around to confront him. "I am _not_ sick, I am _not_ too tired! Do you take me for a wimp? We are going to this meeting, you are going to impress King Jaida's councilors with your negotiating prowess, we will sign a treaty beneficial to Shin Makoku as soon as possible, and we will go home! Understood?"

Yuuri snapped a salute, "Sir, yes sir!"

Wolfram gave him a puzzled look, which only made him grin, then shook his head as if to throw off his confusion at his response. "Stop being silly and let's go. The sooner begun the sooner done."

"Only if you swear to say something if you start to feel ill."

The blonde rolled his eyes, "Alright, fine. "

"Good," Yuuri agreed, declaring victory in their verbal skirmish.

"Wimp."

"How many times to I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Until you're not," his fiancé snorted, and Yuuri could hear his effort not to smile in his voice.

They left the room side by side, the guards assigned to Yuuri in Conrad's absence struggling to maintain their somber faces. Seeing that, Yuuri reviewed the last few minutes and began to wonder just who had won the argument.

-o0O0o-

Walking beside the Demon King, the assassin's tension eased. Though the persuasions he'd composed from Wolfram's memories were valid, he had his own reasons for sticking with the Maoh. He needed the nobility, everyone in the castle, to see them together and recognize the bond between Yuuri and Wolfram.

When he struck down King Jaida and the confederates scattered among the witnesses raised the cry against the murdering Demon prince, everyone would believe the crime done at the Maoh's command. He would flee in the confusion and the prince would be found dead, the apparent victim of the angry mob spawned by the murder. Before he could be questioned and the deception revealed. And he and his comrades would sail home, mission accomplished: a dead King and dead hope of any kind of treaty between Shin Makoku and Aeriemille.

He turned to gaze out a window as they passed by and smiled. "It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day."

-o0O0o-

As soon as he loaded the last wrapped parcel into the cart, Yosak, in the garb of an Aeriemille footman, climbed up into the driver's seat to perch beside him. Murata reviewed the list and map he, Gunter, and Jaida's majordomo had spent a good part of the morning putting together from Yuuri's rather chaotic notes.

"So, how many more to go?" he asked as he gathered up the reins.

Murata put on his Great Wise Man face and smirked, "One less than the last time you asked."

The soldier-spy waited until their escort had re-mounted then flicked the rains to get the pony moving. People got out of the way, most pausing to stare or whisper excitedly among themselves. A few had the presence of mind to offer a bow in recognition of Murata's status.

"How does it feel to be the subject of 'How I met the Great Sage of Shin Makoku' stories for the next seven generations?" the redhead teased him.

"Been there, done that," Murata replied, smiling at the laugh he surprised out of his companion. "Besides, half those stories will be 'The 27th Maoh.' Our next stop is Entrow the Clothier. Then" he reviewed the list "five more and we're done."

Yosak casually added, "Too late for the boring hobnobbing with the snobby nobles, early enough to take full part in the dinner and dancing."

"Trust me, Yosak. You'll thank me later." He repositioned his glasses into their proper place on the bridge of his nose. "That part is deadly dull. The only reason anyone still holds that onerous meet-and-greet is because it's tradition." After referring to the map, he instructed, "Turn left here. All the rest of the shops we have to visit are on this street, and the last one is just a few minutes from the gate of the castle's outer wall. We're nearly done."

Once on the main thoroughfare, they could see how the road sloped up to the entry to the castle. Built in the aftermath of the devastating war with the Originators, its architects focused mostly on defense.

The capital city was built on the inland side of a craggy mountain range, with a sheer drop of hundreds of feet to the ocean on the other side. No beach, too stony for a harbor, with currents too violent for invading ships, Murata saw why the rulers of the time chose this location to rebuild their seat of power.

The city itself had been built in a series of seven rising walled terraces. Looking down from the vantage point of his assigned room made Murata think of the perspective of the bride and groom on the top of a wedding cake. The lower terraces were devoted to what crops the altitude allowed them to grow, the next to living quarters for the people who worked the land and the garrisons charged with their defense. The next tier housed the craftsmen, the next the merchants, and so on. The higher the tier you lived on, the higher your social status.

Every detail had been chosen with defense in mind, although in their paranoia, they'd left themselves no escape if they were blockaded. The architects, or their employers, had forgotten practically too. This "ideal" location severely restricted their self-sufficiency, so now they desperately need trading partners.

"Here we are." Yosak pulled the incredibly patient pony to a halt in from of the shop Murata had named. They stared at the elaborate ensembles displayed in the windows. "Oh, Sage. Please tell me we have an unlimited line of credit here."

"Isn't your wardrobe extensive enough?" Murata winked at him.

Yosak leaped to the ground, handed Murata down from the cart seat, and ushered him to the shop entrance with an exaggerated bow. "There's no such thing as too many clothes, just too few closets."

"Ah, a man after my own heart!" A pudgy fellow who had to be Master Entrow met them at the door with an eager light in his eyes. "You must be the man His Majesty King Yuuri said would come to complete our business, yes? I am so pleased to meet you and look forward to serving your needs during your stay in Aeriemille."

"Thank you, Master Entrow, I'm sure we will." Murata shook his hand and gave him the voucher Gunter had authorized for the clothier's shop, watching the man's avarice turn the light in his eyes into an outright glow.

"His Majesty is most generous. Rest assured I keep meticulous records and provide a complete tally of all transactions on demand."

Murata nodded, "We are also here to pick up King Yuuri's purchase."

"Of course. Alphonse!"

A tall scarecrow of a man, who had apparently been tracking their conversation even as he displayed a selection of frilly shirts to an enthusiastic Yosak, bowed and retreated to the back room.

Entrow smiled wide. "I set the dress for the little princess aside. It is one of the best to come out of my shop, if I do say so myself. His Majesty has excellent ta..."

"And the jacket?"

"…ste. Your Excellency?"

Murata returned the master's puzzled look with one of his own. "The green embroidered waistcoat that Lord Von Bielefeld tried on?"

Now Entrow's expressive face held a hint of offense, that a foreigner doubted his memory. "Of course I remember it. The young lord looked quite handsome in it. Honestly, I had hoped he might wear it at tonight's gala and let the other noble guests know which shop he'd purchased it at. Alas, he chose not to let His Majesty buy it for him."

That brought both his and Yosak's heads up in surprise.

"You're kidding." Yosak abandoned his browsing to join Murata at the cash station. "No way would the kiddo turn down a gift from Yuuri. Oh, he might have put up a token resistance, but then he'd have jumped at the chance."

Murata frowned. Yosak was right, that was totally out of character for the fire makoku. Yuuri hadn't mentioned that he'd offered to buy the coat first. Still… "Yuuri bought it as a surprise gift. He made the arrangements with you."

"Well, I certainly would have remembered such a transaction. I _do_ remember my disappointment."

"You'll have a lot more to remember if you sold that jacket out from under the Demon King," Murata responded, knowing full well Yuuri might be disappointed but would never hold it against the man.

Entrow went white, sweating with fear. "Never! It's here on the rack." Murata could guess why. That voucher probably meant more than a year's profit to him. No way did he want to lose it and the potential Shin Makoku contracts to a simple misunderstanding.

Murata watched with Yosak as the master clothier's search became more frantic as he found no sign of the coat.

"Oh, this can't be right. It has to be here!"

"Master Entrow!"

Alphonse had returned from the back of the shop. "Here are the packages for the King of Shim Makoku."

Sure enough there were two brown paper wrapped bundles in the tall man's arms.

"Impossible." Entrow snatched the smaller of the two from Alphonse and folded back a corner to expose the rich dark green fabric beneath.

Murata smiled with relief that he didn't have to disappoint his friend and for the clothing merchant who got to keep his lucrative relationship with the Demon Kingdom visitors. But Entrow was more upset than before.

"No. This isn't right. I know my stock, gentlemen. No one keeps better records than I do. This coat is still in the inventory, it should not be here! Alphonse, you know better than to shift merchandise without following procedure."

Alphonse's eyes went wide at the accusation. "II did not, Master. See for yourself. It's your own mark tied in the cord."

With a snort of disbelief, Master Entrow flipped the package over where, sure enough, a chit had been tied into the chord binding the wrapping. He shook his head again and again.

"I don't understand. I attach this to the orders of my best customers myself. So they know their purchase had my personal attention. But I have no memory of doing this."

Murata opened his mouth to reassure the poor man that memory lapses happened to everyone. Until he saw the very real fear in the clothier's eyes and the worry on his assistant's face.

Alphonse's gaze flitted between the three men. "Master Entrow has an amazing memory. He only keeps paper records for the staff and the tax collector. He never forgets anything. Never."

Yosak smiled and turned to him, but whatever he was going to say went unsaid when he saw his face. Whatever was there raised alarms. "What is it, Geika?"

Instead of answering, Murata stepped closer to Entrow "May I?" and shaded his eyes with his hand, exposed them to the light, then shaded them again. All the while he watched the sluggish reaction of the older man's pupils.

"Who else on your staff dealt directly with the royal party?"

"Only me and Alphonse," Entrow answered. "He's my most advanced journeyman. I would not trust such important customers to less. Why?"

During that speech, Murata moved to stand in front of startled assistant, standing on his toes to reach up and repeat his actions, his worry growing with each passing second. Oh, this was bad.

"Murata?"

Yosak's question brought his thoughts back to the clothier's shop. "Master Entrow, at any time during their visit was King Jaida, Yuuri, or Wolfram out of your site?"

Entrow swallowed nervously, no doubt sensing his growing alarm. "Only when Lord von Bielefeld went to try on the waistcoat. But Alphonse accompanied him. And everyone was fine when they left my shop."

"Show us where they went."

The master clothier debated silently for the space of three slow heartbeats, then strode quickly to the front door of his establishment. He spoke briefly to their escort, something about telling any customers that a private showing was in progress. The guardsman looked to Yosak who nodded. Entrow then flipped the closed sign into place and closed the door.

"This way."

Murata followed him, Yosak and Alphonse on his heels. The back area looked harmless enough but Yosak drew his sword and checked each curtained section for a hidden threat before allowing Murata to proceed.

"Which booth did Lord von Bielefeld use?"

"The center one," Alphonse pointed. "But nothing happened."

"That you remember," Murata countered as he stepped inside the indicated space. He trailed his fingers over the curtain walls, the wall at the back, then the floor. That's when his fingers twitched, almost as if he'd jabbed himself with a splinter.

He stood and stepped back, rubbing his palms briskly against his pant legs. Not good at all.

"Master Entrow, I strongly suggest that you close your shop for the rest of the day and go to your healer. Take Alphonse here with you."

Both men's faces drained of color. Murata hurriedly reassured them, "You're both probably fine if nothing's has happened by now."

The master clothier whispered, "Why? What's wrong with us?"

"I believe someone has tampered with your memories. No harm seems to have come from it but they used a magic I am not familiar with and I am no physician. It's best not to take chances."

Entrow went from white to a distinct tint of gray as the last of the blood leeched from his cheeks. Murata felt for him. It must be uniquely terrifying for a man used to depending on a memory that never failed him to realize his mind was no longer reliable.

The two merchants practically fled after posting a speedily scrawled family emergency sign for the door and locking up. He stepped aside with the tall spy to pretend to review their list, out of earshot of the rest of their group. Only then did Yosak ask the question.

"What about Yuuri, Wolfram, and King Jaida?"

Murata scowled and pushed his glasses up on nose though they didn't need it, a nervous habit he really ought to work on taming. "Any one or all three may have been affected. I won't know for sure until I've had a chance to examine all three. But my money's on Wolfram. He wasn't behaving like himself when they got back. He said he was tired out, and we all took him at his word."

"We need to get back and warn everyone."

Murata caught Yosak's arm, stopping him before he commandeered one of their escort's horses to ride back to Jaida's castle at full speed.

"Warn them against what? We have no idea what was done, or to whom, not even who is responsible. One thing I do know, we can't break routine. You left with me as one of their guards. We have to return the same way, and not in a rush. Whatever is going on, I'm sure someone is watching the castle. One of the soldiers here might be in on it."

"And if we come back in any way other than they expect us to, they'll know we suspect something." By his expression, Yosak hated that necessity.

Murata knew Yosak might slip in unnoticed, but any spy would notice if he returned one man short. They needed to keep the fact that they knew something was in the wind a secret. It was their only card in this game until they learned more.

He arched an eyebrow when a slow smile spread across Yosak's face and he raised his voice. "I have been tasked to be sure you return in time, Your Excellency. And I'm afraid we were too long at the previous stops. But if we head back now, we should be able to make it."

"You're right, soldier. If we visit the rest of the shops on the list, I will be late for tonight's gala. Thank you for reminding me. We'll simply have to come back and finish up tomorrow."

Yosak gave a sharp bow, hiding his grin. "Of course, Excellency. And what harm done if we take it at a trot every once in a while? I'm sure the pony will appreciate the change of pace."

Murata gave him a bow of his own, appreciating his quick thinking. "That is a fine idea. I'm sure my King will appreciate my punctuality. Let's go, everyone. I have a party to get to."

And a plot to foil.

-o0O0o-

_AN: At last someone realizes that things aren't right in Aeriemille, but they don't know enough. Yet. Some answers and more questions in __**Chapter 4: The Tale of the Rings**__._

_Thanks for reading and coming along with me. Please review, I welcome your comments and suggestions. They help me make improvements and see where changes need to be made._


	4. Chapter 4: The Tale of the Rings

Summary: While on a diplomatic mission, Yuuri and Wolfram visit a merchant's shop, but it isn't Wolfram who walks out.

_AN: I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. Thank you everyone who has reviewed and flagged __**With This Ring**__ for alerts and as a favorite story. You inspire me! Enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

**With This Ring**

**Chapter 4: The Tale of the Rings**

The first round of negotiations was over at last. Yuuri kept to small talk in the hallways but as soon as they reached the wing assigned to them, he turned to his friends.

"Well? How did I do?"

Gunter practically gushed as he took a seat at the common room table. "You were perfect, Majesty. Our hours of study definitely paid off."

Gwendal, on the other hand, sat in one of the wing chairs by the hearth and, leaning back into the padded leather, qualified, "You held your own against an experienced negotiator. King Jaida's brother may have been heir apparent, but it's clear that their parents prepared her to rule as well." An ironic smile quirked his lips, "I think I'm going to enjoy dueling with her once the treaty is signed."

Yuuri casually glanced into Murata's room and saw no sign that he was back from his errand. He hoped he'd return soon. He really wanted to give Wolfram his present in time for him to wear his new jacket at the reception. Yuuri flopped on a nearby divan and covered his eyes with his right forearm. "I was too nervous to enjoy anything. I'm glad you were there, Wolf. It really helped."

"Of course I was there, you wimp," Wolfram snorted as he pushed Yuuri's feet out of the way and sat on the end of the couch. "I'm your fiancé and bodyguard. Where else ought I to be?"

"Don't call me wimp!" Yuuri protested, just to see the spark that backlit the emerald green of Wolfram's eyes when he got riled.

What he saw made him blink and look again.

"Hmmph!" Wolfram broke their gaze and crossed his arms over his chest. "I notice you didn't deny it."

Yuuri gave his head a quick shake and got back in the game. "The denial is implied."

The corner of the fire demon's mouth twitched from fighting a smile. He opened his mouth to retort but Gwendal interrupted their word battle.

"Will you two _please_ remember where you are and who you are?"

Conrad, who had been perched on the wide sill of the huge diamond-paned window opposite the fireplace sipping a glass of water, smiled, "Let them be young while they can, Gwendal. In a few more hours, they'll be statesmen again."

Yuuri shot his godfather a grateful smile then sobered. "So who on Jaida's council do you think favors the treaty? You have to admit, it's hard to tell when none of them spoke more than ten sentences in the last seven hours."

"I'd say Lady Kindt, the minister of finance." Gunter leaned his elbows on the table's polished mahogany surface, folded his hands and began tapping his chin with his steepled forefingers. "She looks at Shin Makoku and sees new revenue streams to fund the projects and improvements her kingdom needs to maintain their prosperity."

With his eyes closed, Yuuri visualized the woman who held Aeriemille's purse strings. Tiny, austere, with gray-streaked auburn hair pulled back so severely that the strands lying against her skull showed no trace of the natural curl that cascaded down her back. She'd kept paper, quill, and ink with her throughout the meeting, scribbling notes, calculating and passing her totals to Jaida before she asked for them. He remembered thinking at the time that she'd make a perfect teacher or tutor back home. She certainly looked the part.

"Okay. Who else?"

The other two councilmen at this first meeting, Lords Merrann and Ivst had been as controlled as professional poker players, giving nothing away, at least not while he was looking at them. Yuuri instinctively didn't like them, though he didn't know why.

He almost giggled out loud. Maybe it was their mustaches. Both men had taken lip hair to extremes. Lord Ivst's had been waxed into curling patterns that tracked the line of his chin in a kind of fake beard. On the other hand, Lord Merrann used even more wax and shaped his so that it looked like black lightning bolts were coming out of his nostrils. The two men probably spent more time with hair dressers than any ten ladies.

"Neither of the others impressed me as being all that supportive," was Wolfram's comment. "Maybe it's because they still haven't adjusted to working under someone other than her brother Jobel, but did anyone else get the feeling they…" He waved his hand in circles as he tried to find the right words.

Gwendal supplied them for him. "Lacked the proper enthusiasm?"

Wolfram nodded, setting his bright blond hair flashing in the last rays of sunlight spilling through the window glass.

"There's always a period of adjustment when a throne changes hands, even under the best of circumstances," Conrad reminded them. "That's probably one of the reasons King Jaida approached us, to demonstrate to her detractors and supporters that she can rule as well as or better than King Jobel."

Mention of the previous King had brought a frown to Yuuri's face. "How did he die? Was there any hint of foul play?"

"None," reported Gunter, absently pushing pale lavender strands of hair out of his eyes and behind his ear. "From what I've gathered, Jobel was liked well enough, performed his duties but without much in the way of innovation. Pride and temper were his failings. He apparently thought he was a better swordsman than he actually was. He took offense at something a man said, no one remembers exactly what, and challenged him to a duel. The man chose not to let him win. That was a little over a year ago."

Conrad added, "I heard that the duel was meant to go only to first blood, but King Jobel tried a professional duelist's maneuver and failed, putting his own body in harm's way. No blame fell to his opponent."

"Jaida was Jobel's heir until he had children, right? That means her younger brother – Jihn? – is her heir. Why haven't we met him?"

When Gunter cleared his throat, Yuuri knew that his instructor had gone into lecture mode. With a sigh, he pulled away from the nap that had started calling to him to pay closer attention. No doubt he or Gwendal would quiz him on it when he least expected it.

"The Aeriemille royal dynasty follows the bloodline so long as the heir is considered of age and capable. If Jobel had lived to father children, the eldest would be his heir – assuming competence – and inherit at his death if he or she was of age at the time. If not, the throne passes to the next sibling of the first generation until the descendent heir comes of age. Jihn is still too young by at least a year. Since he is not a viable candidate yet, his presence at these conferences isn't strictly required. He is currently away at their equivalent of the private schools in your world, Heika. I hear the boy's more scholar than warrior."

"Pay closer attention to your own lessons, Shibuya. I'm sure Gunter already covered this ground when he taught about the governance of Aeriemille before we made the journey here."

"Murata!" The sound of his friend's voice had Yuuri upright, on his feet, and at the door, where the other boy leaned on the jam with a goofy grin on his face. "What took you so long? I was beginning to think you'd miss the party."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Murata shrugged as he came in and angled for the water pitcher to serve himself a drink. "We'd've been back sooner but things turned out to be a bit more complicated than you led me to believe."

Yosak, wearing a devilish grin and an Aeriemille military uniform, poked his head through the door long enough to put in his two cents. "We filled the cart and still had five shops to go when we realized we'd run out of time. We're going to have to go back tomorrow." Then he was off to resume whatever role he'd taken on this time.

Gwendal gave Yuuri a look that made him decidedly uncomfortable. "Just how much did you buy, Heika?"

"Not all that much. Murata, stop exaggerating!"

The Great Wise Man laughed. "He is his mother's son, after all. Go shopping with Jennifer the next time you're in our world and you'll see what I mean."

"Murata!" Yuuri tried to sound threatening but didn't pull it off.

"I should have warned you to take two carts," Wolfram snorted and Yuuri rolled his eyes in surrender. "Yuuri bought or ordered something in every shop we entered."

He moaned, "It really wasn't _that_ bad."

His fiancé just shrugged where he sat on the divan. "The evidence speaks for itself."

Before Yuuri managed a suitable response, Murata stepped up to Wolfram and leaned in close.

"That's a nice ring. I don't think I've ever seen you wear one before."

Gwendal arched a brow at his baby brother. "I didn't think you owned a ring."

Wolfram's cheeks flushed at the unexpected attention. "I don't. They interfere with my grip when I use a sword so I've never taken to them. One of the artisans we visited gifted it to me. Since I'm going unarmed today, I decided to wear it."

"Beautiful workmanship."

"Let me." Taking Wolfram's hand, Yuuri raised it closer to his eyes for a better look. He had to agree with Murata. The jeweler had amazing dexterity to make each scale stand out like that, and the way he or she made it look as if the snake's fangs had pierced the skin was impressive. "This is really nice! Which shop was it? I'd like to get something like it for Shori."

Wolfram pulled his hand back and crossed his arms again. "I can find the place again, not sure I can tell you how to get there though."

"Great! Next time we have a few free hours, we'll go, make a day of it."

Murata smiled, "Count me in. Yuuri, you should go check to make sure we didn't miss anything before your dressers get their hands on you. The house steward is dealing with the unloading downstairs." His back to Wolfram, he mouthed at him 'It's there' and winked.

Yuuri suddenly became aware of the sounds of activity coming from his room and saw the team of royal dressers and tailors laying out the night's finery. "Good idea. If they ask, tell them I'll be right back."

Gunter stood, "I'll see to them, Your Majesty. It will allow me to give your regalia a final check," and strode with purpose into the bedroom.

"Thanks, Gunter!"

Wolfram got to his feet as well, "I'll go with you."

"No, that's not necessary. Why don't you go to the baths now. By the time I get back, you'll be done and I can take my turn."

The blond shrugged, spun on his heel, and strode to their rooms without a word.

"Do you think I made him mad?"

"I doubt it," Murata assured him. "And even if you did, when he sees his present, I'm sure he'll forgive you."

"Right!" and he rushed out of the room, already imagining the pleased surprise on Wolfram's face when he saw the coat.

-o0O0o-

Yuuri was barely out the door when Conrart rose from his perch at the window to follow. Murata reached out to stop him, his eyes darting from him to Gwendal and back.

"Let his escort do their jobs for now," the Sage told them, keeping his voice low. He tightened his grip when the younger brother tried to pull away and go after his godson. "We need to talk. Now and where we can't be overheard."

Something of his urgency must have communicated to the men because Conrart stopped resisting him to stare down into his eyes, and the frown lines between Gwendal's brows deepened.

"We'll go to the healers' rooms. They're more private than here, and Gisela needs to hear what I have to say as well."

The brothers exchanged glances. Murata saw their worry deepen. They followed him in silence to the rooms where Gisela and her team of medics and healers had set up a clinic to deal with any illnesses or injuries incurred during their mission. The way wound through the halls of the ambassador's wing to the floor between their rooms and those for their security escort. Gisela had wanted not just privacy but to be equally accessible to everyone in the Shin Makoku delegation. That worked in their favor.

Before Murata could even knock, the door swung open and he faced the green-haired healer.

"Get in. I've sent the others away so we can speak freely."

Gunter's daughter ushered them inside, then closed and locked the door. Both Conrart and Gwendal wore puzzled expressions at her apparent precognition until they saw Yosak standing in the shadows behind the door. Gwendal turned to Murata first.

"Alright, Geika, we're here. What is this news we must hear in secrecy?" he demanded.

"And why cut out Yuuri and Wolfram?" finished Conrart.

Murata, smiled ruefully. He'd had a mental bet with himself on which one would notice that bit of maneuvering first. And lost.

"Everyone, sit." He took his own advice. "This is going to take some explaining and we don't have a lot of time."

The sitting room of the healers' suite was quite comfortable, done in neutral colors with upholstered furnishings and vases of fresh flowers scattered about, all meant to put the ill and hurting at ease. His four companions, however, radiated tension despite their surroundings. Unfortunately, Murata was about to justify it.

"We have a serious problem. Yuuri isn't here because he can't lie to save his life." A deep breath. "And Wolfram isn't here because he isn't Wolfram."

Everyone else in the room froze for the span of three heartbeats, including Yosak. That part was news to him as well.

"Are you saying Shinou has possessed him again?" Conrart asked, though his voice tone said he really didn't believe that.

"Unfortunately, no. The person getting ready to escort Yuuri to dinner is literally not your brother."

Gisela shook her head. "How is that possible? Sooner or later, an imposter must make a mistake that gives him or her away. A lookalike might fool the eyes, but no one can learn enough about another person to pull it off successfully. Not even with magic." Then she frowned at him, "At least none that I've ever heard of."

"It has something to do with that ring, doesn't it?" Gwendal's soft question drew all eyes to him. "I wondered at your interest in it. Frankly, Geika, you don't impress me as the type to notice or care about that sort of thing."

"You're right," he had to agree. "But I've never seen a troth ring before, though I learned how to recognize one. Seeing the signs now was not a pleasant surprise."

"What is a troth ring?" Gisela asked for everyone. "I've never heard the term before."

"I'm not surprised they aren't remembered now, troth rings were practically folklore in my first lifetime. The irony is that it all began with a love story in a kingdom gone to dust long ago. A couple, one a warrior and the other a spellcaster, were to be parted by war. Both loved so deeply that neither wanted to spend what might be a year or more apart without knowing the fate of the other. So the spellcaster devised a new magic and bound it into their wedding rings."

Conrart's eyes widened. "We had that Earth tradition here too?"

Murata shrugged, "You'd be surprised by how much our two worlds have shared. Anyway, while they wore the rings, each knew what the other felt and had the ability to reach through the ring to offer comfort when needed.

"Word spread and other couples came to the spellcaster to have rings cast for them. It became a status symbol and a test for those who dared, because the ring spell only worked if the love bond was a true one. The war ended, life moved on. But human nature does not allow for peace without strife. A time came when civil war broke out, factions splitting over which of twinborn princes should inherit the throne. The worst thing to come from it was the corruption of the troth rings bond.

"One of the princes hired sorcerers to change the way the rings worked. Instead of sharing heartfelt emotions, the rings now allowed wearers of the master ring to enter the mind of whoever wore the ring's mate and take whatever knowledge they wanted. No need for physical torture and the risk of faulty information it often garnered. Any captured servant, soldier, or noble was simply ringbound to an interrogator and stripped of whatever knowledge they had. There was no defense. The rings proved very efficient, but they had a nasty side effect. The longer the bond lasted, the weaker the ringbound pair became, and if either died while in the thrall of the rings, both died.

"Eventually, the prince's own people learned of the heretical use of magic he and his inner circle used and turned on him, at a great cost in lives, and surrendered him to his brother's forces. The corrupt prince and his sorcerers were tried and put to death. All the rings and the written records on how to create them were destroyed. Using rings to symbolize marriage lost its attraction and was eventually replaced by the traditions in use today."

Gisela looked at him with sick eyes. She understood just how twisted this misuse of maryoku truly was. "So someone somewhere has rediscovered a corrupted spell and corrupted it even further to make a false Wolfram good enough to deceive his family and friends."

"But not for long," Murata pointed out. "You were right. We are each more than our physical appearance and conscious actions. We are also the thousands of little things we do without thinking. And since they are unconscious, they are that much more difficult to mimic or mask. Even with the aid of sorcery, being someone else must put tremendous strain on the fake Wolfram."

Then Conrad asked the dreaded question. "What about our Wolfram?"

"Wherever he is, he's alive," Murata assured them. "He's safe while they need him to fuel the spell. The problem is that the minute our unknown foes – I can't imagine that the fake is here alone – realizes we know what they've done, Wolfram loses his value to them. We have to keep them in the dark as long as possible."

"That's why His Majesty isn't here." Gisela had been only half-listening ever since he told the story of the ring bond, no doubt searching her memory for any lore that might help them. "If he knew the truth…"

"He'd either go Maoh on our imposter or give us away trying to pretend that he is the real Wolfram." Murata pushed his glasses up on his nose. "We need Shibuya to believe for as long as possible. We also need to figure out why whoever it is has gone through all this trouble."

Gwendal's frown deepened. "You said that the impersonation has to fail eventually. What kind of timetable are we talking about?"

"Among strangers, he'd get away with it longer, but with family and close friends, I doubt they counted on more than a few days."

"So," Gwendal came to the logical conclusion, "our foe has a small window to accomplish whatever they have planned before inevitable discovery."

"One man on the inside." Yosak speculated, "Best bet, it's going to be an assassination."

"I doubt Yuuri's the target." Conrart stood abruptly and began to pace. "The imposter has had plenty of opportunity but done nothing. That has to mean he wants someone high in Aeriemille politics."

His older brother agreed. "Getting close to Yuuri gets him close to the nobility and the crown, all of whom will be here in a matter of hours. Any one of them might be the target, though it's most likely King Jaida. So we need to be in position to stop him when he acts as well as find and rescue Wolfram."

Murata nodded, "I believe I can work out a way to use the ring bond to find your brother with Gisela's help, but I'll need time."

"We'll see you get it." Gwendal stood, decisive and determined with a plan of action. "Yosak, have a third of our escort stand ready to ride out as soon as we have Wolfram's location. Then shadow the imposter. The rest of us have duties tonight but will stay as close as they allow us to. You'll be our best chance to stop him when the imposter strikes."

"Yes, sir."

His slate gray eyes scanned everyone in the room. "Whoever is closest when he makes his move takes him down. No permanent damage. He may be our best chance to get Wolfram back safely." With that, Gwendal left with Conrart on his heels.

Gisela waited, as did Yosak. The first he'd expected, the other he almost wished wasn't so astute.

"Alright, Geika," the spy stared him down. "What aren't you saying?"

"What I think you've already guessed." Murata leaned back into the cushions behind him. "The reason the prisoners interrogated with the rings died was that the bond created only took: knowledge, strength, maryoku. In the end, they had nothing left to sustain life. The prince's torturers were very methodic and kept detailed records. Prisoners started dying after seven days. A strong man or woman lasted up to ten days. No one lived longer than that."

Gisela nodded and Murata knew he'd confirmed her fears. "To achieve the level of impersonation to fool us as long as possible, the rings must be pulling even more from Wolfram and non-stop since they took him."

"Exactly."

Yosak's expression struggled between worry and rage. "How long does the kiddo really have?"

"Nowhere near a week, possibly only hours."

-o0O0o-

___AN: It's the calm before the storm. Everyone is making their preparations for the night's reception. Things are starting to go wrong, just as Murata feared, but there's no turning back for anyone. And just what did Yuuri see when he looked at the Wolfram imposter? Don't miss **Chapter 5: **_**Mirror Images**_._

_I hope you enjoyed. Please review and let me know what you think. I plan to have the next installment posted in early December. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!_


	5. Chapter 5: Mirror Images

Summary: While on a diplomatic mission, Yuuri and Wolfram visit a merchant's shop, but it isn't Wolfram who walks out.

_AN: I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. As always, thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing my story. Those of you who aren't new to the story will have noticed the change in the chapter title. When I hit 3000 words with the planned end still a long way off, I realized I was trying to put too much into it. I've taken the first part and made an extra chapter. _Dance with the Reaper_ will be Chapter 6 and out in a couple of weeks. Enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

**With This Ring**

**Chapter 5: Mirror Images**

Night was coming on, the forest around them growing darker and more shadowed. Tall One and Shorter One had pulled him out of the carriage, and stretched him out next to the campfire. The needle and a clear glass phial containing a thick yellow liquid that was all too familiar waited on a nearby flat rock.

Wolfram lay still beneath the blanket covering him and hiding his captive state from anyone who might see the campsite from the road. He'd tried earlier to remove the serpent ring, hoping to disrupt the spell, but with his hands tied behind his back, one wrist to the opposite elbow, he'd only had his thumb to work with.

The cursed thing squirmed and tightened like a real snake and stayed put while Imposter's laughter echoed in his head. Behind the walls he'd built around his secrets, Wolfram swore the man would pay for treating him this way. And if he hurt Yuuri….

Needles of pain darted through his chest and he bit his tongue to keep from crying out. He needed Tall One and Shorter One to think he was unconscious, too weak to risk giving him the drug they'd forced on him before.

This is nothing, he told himself. I can bear this. This is….

The needles morphed into knives too fast for him to stop his scream.

Cold air hit him as the blanket was torn aside and a calloused thumb once again pushed up his eyelid.

"Damn!"

Hands were tugging at his body, nails scratching his face as they pulled the gag out of his mouth. Too busy trying to breathe around the pain, Wolfram didn't resist when the hand pried his mouth wide and dusted something dry and sour across his tongue, then covered his mouth and nose until he swallowed. Only then did they release him to collapse to the ground.

Wolfram curled in on himself, trying to cough up whatever they'd given him. Tall One knelt in front of him and, to his surprise began to rub his chest in slow circles, the way his mother and nannies had done when he'd been sick as a child.

"Easy now, take deep breaths and let them out as slowly as you can."

And Wolfram realized he was hyperventilating. He didn't dare pass out now. Closing his eyes, he did his best to obey. After what felt like hours, the pain let him go.

Thin fingers shifted from his chest to his throat and pressed into his carotid artery, setting off a bone deep shudder. Wolfram didn't need to see Tall One's frown to know that something was seriously wrong. His heart felt like a trapped bird in his chest, struggling frantically to break free, resting for a little while then resuming the fruitless attempt to escape.

"He's failing faster than predicted."

"The sun's set. We need to dose him."

"We don't dare. The venom will kill him in his condition and we'll have failed. You know what that means."

Shorter One scowled down at him. "I suppose the shape you're in, interference won't be an issue."

Wolfram's relief nearly overwhelmed his senses. Quickly, he threw up thoughts of not having to suffer the awful side effects the venom caused before the man riding in his head realized the true reason. Without the venom in his system, he'd have a much better chance of success.

Being truly sick had not been part of the plan.

"We can't warn our comrade. By now, he's in the thick of preparations for the reception and will not be alone again until after the deed is done." Tall One stood up, his face hard with decision. "Break camp. If our time is as short as I think, I want us as far on our way as possible. He knows how to find us if he gets clear. Load up the boy, I'll get the fire."

A chill crawled up and down Wolfram's spine. The farther away they took him, the less chance he had of being found and rescued by Yuuri and his brothers.

Don't let it matter! Fiercely, he pushed down the scenarios his imagination was conjuring for what fate awaited him in the hands of his captors' masters. He had to focus on the immediate danger first.

Shorter One picked him up as easily as if he'd been a child, settled him on the floor of the carriage, and covered him with the blanket again.

Wolfram waited until the two men were involved in wiping out any sign that they'd been there. When he was sure they were too busy to watch him closely, he turned his attention to the serpent ring. He focused on the bond between it and its mate. He'd found that, if he concentrated, he literally saw it in his mind as a faintly glowing stream of – life – flowing out of him and into Imposter. Once he had the vision firmly in his mind, Wolfram settled in to wait.

-o0O0o-

Yuuri sighed miserably as he stood on the cushioned stool in front of the triple mirror in his stocking feet while his dressers made final adjustments to the outfit protocol required him to wear.

Up until now, he'd been able to talk Gunter into letting him wear his school uniform with the embellishment of the much simpler short cape that clasped at his shoulder. Little had he known that, out of his sight and without his permission, tailors had been busily resizing, altering, and creating an entire wardrobe of outfits "suitable for the Maoh of the Great Demon Kingdom."

One look at the room they'd needed to house it all had nearly brought him to tears. The least complicated outfit required a minimum of two people to get him into it.

"Please, Your Majesty," the head dresser said with long-suffering patience. "If you would stand straight? We need to adjust the cloak so it drapes properly."

Yuuri sighed again. I'm in Hell.

Wolfram returned from changing in the room assigned to his older brothers. Yuuri's dressers had taken up every available space and surface in their room, forcing his fiancé to find other accommodations, much to his vocal chagrin.

Facing the triple mirrors while he was tied, buttoned, laced, and pinned into his outfit, Yuuri watched Wolfram's reflection as it moved from mirror to mirror as he walked over to a good vantage point to look him over.

His fiancé cut quite a figure himself in a double-breasted navy blue version of his uniform coat with dark gold buttons and satin trim along the raised collar and lapels. A green cabochon pin that matched his eyes perfectly held the bright white cravat in pace. The milk chocolate brown slacks fit so perfectly, there were no telltale puckers in the soft matching thigh boots he wore.

Wolfram's head tilted to the right, he then gave a sharp nod of approval. "I like it. It makes me think of a starry night sky."

The master dresser preened officiously at the praise. Yuuri dared to move enough to see the effect Wolfram's freedom to walk about let him see.

The black brushed velvet had been trimmed with dark ash gray ribbon stitched with silver thread. It also laced the material itself so that when he moved, the silver caught the light and flashed it back. The sleeves, long enough to reach his knuckles, were slit from mid upper arm to wrist. It allowed the pale gray silk undershirt to poof through the elaborately woven ribbons lacing them together. The assistant dressers spent most of the time he'd been standing on the stool like some fashionista scarecrow re-doing the intricate design to their boss's satisfaction.

Okay, so maybe it was worth it. He did look rather impressive. He groused all the same.

"I feel like I stepped out of _Romeo and Juliet_."

""Who are they and how did you step out of them?"

Yuuri arched a brow at the look on the blonde's face. It was too innocent. Sometimes he wondered if Wolfram's grasp of his Earth references was better than he let on. "Actually, it's a play by a guy named Shakespeare. At least I'm not wearing tights. I'd die if I had to wear tights!"

Wolfram frowned, head tilting again, this time in puzzlement. "What are tights?"

Yuuri opened his mouth to explain then shut it with an audible click of his teeth. No way was he giving that avidly eavesdropping tailor any ideas.

"Never mind. You look… fine."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The prince sounded offended. "Are you implying my uniform isn't good enough?"

"Of course not. But I'm sure there's something even better in your wardrobe." Yuuri put so much innuendo in his voice that he was sure he sounded like an idiot. "Go check for me? Please?"

Budding anger shifted into wary curiosity. As Wolfram strode over to the free-standing cedar wardrobe, everyone watched. The dressing crew had seen him hang the green dress jacket there before Wolfram came out of the bath so he'd told them about the surprise. By their expressions, they were almost as eager as he was to see the fire demon's reaction.

For a few seconds, they heard hangers sliding over the wooden pole inside. Then the sound stopped. Wolfram stopped. When he stepped out from behind the closet door, he was holding his gift.

"I told you not to buy it." His tiny smile and the shine in his gemstone eyes put the lie to the soft reprimand.

"I wanted to. I like giving you things. Wear it tonight."

"Wimp. You're lucking it matches the rest of my uniform, otherwise you'd be out of luck." He strode back the way he came to change in his brothers' room. Pausing at the door, cheeks tinted pink with his blush, Wolfram added in a soft voice, "Thank you, Yuuri."

Then the prince was gone. And all around Yuuri, the men and women bent on making him into a dress dummy pretended to go about the business of readying their Maoh for his grand entrance. But Yuuri suspected that the gossip chain was about to go into full speed ahead mode. Within the hour, everyone in the castle was going to know about his gift to Wolfram. Likely it would evolve into something unrecognizably romanticized by the time the whispers came back to him.

"Majesty? If you please?"

Yuuri corrected his posture and sighed. Again.

-o0O0o-

Imposter kept up the happy face reaction for the sake of the guards assigned to the Maoh as he crossed the common room and entered the brothers' chambers. He hoped they'd already gone ahead, wanting to take the few minutes the surprise gift had granted him to check in with his team. He got half his wish.

Conrart looked up from fastening the buckle of this boot. "Did you forget something?"

"No. Yuuri gave me a present." He held up the jacket. "He wants me to wear it to the reception."

The half breed smiled, no doubt happy for his little brother's sake. "I suspected he and Murata were up to something. Yuuri loves surprising the people he cares about with gifts."

The way Conrart said it sounded more like a question than a statement. He knew from Wolfram's memories that the middle brother acted as adviser and confidante to King Yuuri, a service he once provided for the youngest prince until his heritage came to light. In recent months that rift had been healing. He was going to have to respond to the opening "little big brother" had given him.

He reached through the ring bond for what he needed and found nothing. Just for an instant. Then it was there. But he knew what it meant. He had to get rid of the brother before it was too late.

"I'll get changed. You'd better hurry. The wimp was almost finished when I left him."

"I'd best get going then. Meet us in the common room as soon as you're ready."

"Right."

As soon as Conrart left, he darted to the door and quietly turned the lock. He staggered to the dressing mirror to see what he'd feared: his hair darkening to its original color and his own face flickering in and out.

No, no, no!

Half-collapsing to the floor, he focused on the ring, the bond, and the fading life force at the end of it. Don't you dare die on me!

Eyes closed, he did as the master had taught him and funneled some of his own energy into the distant prince's body. That in combination with the medicine he knew his comrades had given him at the first signs of heart failure should stabilize him.

_Would_ stabilize him.

Imposter waited, reviewing the alternate plans to give him the access he needed to accomplish his main mission just in case. The few minutes it took felt like hours, but the bond strengthened and his access to Wolfram stabilized. When he climbed to his feet and looked in the mirror, Wolfram von Bielefeld looked back.

He also knew that it wouldn't hold for much longer. They'd wait as long as possible, but the master wanted the prince brought to him alive. His comrades would remove the ring before it killed him and retreat without him. So be it. He'd have to strike at the first opportunity and hope he stayed Wolfram long enough for the blame to fall on the prince, his Maoh, and the Demon Kingdom as planned.

Changing into the actually rather nice formal jacket, he gave himself one last onceover in the silvered glass and tugged the hem to settle it properly.

Dressed to kill.

He allowed his own smirk to twist the prince's face for a moment. Then he left the room to join the unwitting delegation for the final act.

-o0O0o-

When Yuuri came out of his room, Conrad was waiting for him. He looked very dashing in a formal suit of dark brown with darker brown trim and a white shirt with that peaked out of the cuffs. He rarely dressed as other than a soldier, so when he did, the contrast was even more impressive.

His "Looking good!" comment startled a laugh out of friend.

The dressing crew filed out of the suite, everyone talking eagerly about a party. Apparently, in Aeriemille, whenever there was a major event at the palace, a separate party was held in town for the servants and citizens. Nothing fancy, just good food and music for dancing, and the members of the Shin Makoku delegation who were not attending the reception had been invited. It would actually start later and last longer than the noble's reception so the serving staff could go as well.

Yuuri envied them. They'd probably have more fun than he expected to.

"Where's Wolfram? He didn't go ahead without us, did he?

"Why don't you sit and relax, Your Ma…"

Yuuri shot Conrad what he hoped was a stern look.

"…Yuuri. I'm sure Wolfram will be out soon."

"It's been hours. How long does it take to change coats?"

His godfather sat with enviable serenity and gave him a reassuring smile. "It's only been about ten minutes. Wolfram is very conscious of the impression we want to make on the Aeriemille nobility. He'll want to look his very best, especially tonight. I'm sure he won't be much longer."

"I know. You're right." Nodding, Yuuri sat next to him on the lounge. He glanced at the closed door between them and the fire demon. "It's just that Wolfram hasn't been himself lately."

Conrad frowned, "How do you mean?"

He took a deep breath before blurting, "I know I sound nuts, and most of the time he's fine, but every once in a while he's just not Wolfram. Like earlier when we were discussing today's meeting. He had a scary look on his face, just for a second. It was really cold and empty. Wolfram's a lot of things but never cold. That's just not him."

The older man shrugged, "Well, it has been a long day. He's probably still tired and trying to hide it."

"If he's still so tired maybe Gisela ought to take a look at him."

Conrad stared at him before giving a rueful smile, "Are _you_ going to tell my brother to track Gisela down and take her away from the festivities for what is probably nothing?"

Yuuri had to agree with the sentiment. All three brothers, every soldier, and every castle servant lived in a kind of fear of the green-haired medic. Sure she was probably the best healer in Shin Makoku, maybe one of the best in this world, but no one wanted to face her in drill sergeant mode, including him.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Yuuri. I wouldn't even bring it up if I were you."

That statement had Yuuri staring at Conrad. Something was wrong here. He still had that comforting smile on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. Before he had a chance to pursue it, the bedroom door opened and Wolfram came out. Yuuri stood, Conrad a second behind him. Yuuri grinned. The jacket definitely suited him.

"Why are you waiting for, wimp? Let's get going, we're going to be late."

His fiancé was out the door and in the hall before he finished the sentence, his stride sharp and purposeful. Yuuri shrugged at Conrad and followed in his wake.

Gwendal waited for them at the head of the stairs, listening to the music wafting up from the ballroom with a rare calm expression on his face. This was turning into the night of stares for Yuuri. He hardly ever saw his chief advisor in anything but his usual uniform. Tonight, though, he'd matched his brothers' elegance with a smoke gray brocaded suit that set off his figure like a second skin, unlike his normal outfits that deliberately masked his strength. His long hair had been pulled back in a queue in a bronze clip. He had to give one to the Shin Makoku tailors and Master Entrow. The four of them were definitely going to make an impression tonight.

"You look great, Gwendal. I'm glad you decided to relax and enjoy the party."

The eldest brother's habitual scowl returned. "Heika, please keep in mind that we are not here to have fun. We are in a foreign country among people we barely know. There are factions that want these talks to fail and we don't yet have a feel for who may be our enemies. I am always on guard."

Out of nowhere and back again, Gwendal gave him a glimpse of the dagger secreted on his person. Yuuri whistled his appreciation of the older demon's skill.

"You must've been a magician in another life."

Wolfram elbowed him carefully in the ribs, "its called training and practice, wimp."

Yuuri heard the pride and admiration in Wolfram's voice but, for a second, there'd been something else in his eyes. If he hadn't known better, Yuuri might have called it shock.

"Well, let's make our entrance," his fiancé urged them, and then muttered so softly Yuuri doubted he was supposed to overhear, "The sooner the better."

With Wolfram on his left and Gwendal and Conrad behind, Yuuri began the descent. "I thought you liked this sort of thing," he whispered.

Wolfram whispered back, "Not when everyone is watching me the way they will tonight."

They reached the landing and the end of any hope of private conversation. Noble guests stood in scattered clumps throughout the grand foyer, waiting for the announcements of their names, ranks, and holdings before descending into the ballroom.

When they'd first arrived at Jaida's castle, Yuuri had wondered in passing why so many mirrors lined all the entries. Now he witnessed their purpose firsthand. Each mirror had as many as three people in front of it, primping and adjusting and spying on their peers via the reflection. He heard the murmur of their low conversations and imagined not one held anything complimentary.

Gradually, like a wave of dominoes, the lords and ladies of Aeriemille realized that the guests of honor were entering the fray and expressions of friendly welcome slid onto their faces. Yuuri put on his own smile, wondering which of those surrounding them were sincere.

A footman stepped forward and bowed deeply at the waist. "If you will come with me, Your Majesty, we have a salon where you and your entourage may wait in comfort until you are announced."

Yuuri nodded his thanks and they followed the prim little man in the russet uniform that marked him as one of King Jaida's household staff. He brought them to a room just off the ballroom entrance with tall, narrow windows covered by sheer white curtains all along the exterior wall. It was a cheery room with refreshments on a sideboard and cushioned benches under each window.

Gunter and Gisela stood in a corner with Murata having a quiet conversation. Seeing them, Murata grinned and waved, "Hey, Shibuya. Look at you! For once someone seeing you will immediately know you are the Demon King."

"I doubt any previous Maoh went around like this on a daily basis. There'd be no time left in the day to get anything done!"

Murata turned to Wolfram and beamed. "So this is the mystery present. It's perfect on you, Lord Bielefeld."

Yuuri smiled at Wolfram's pleased blush, glad his gift was a success.

"Too bad I don't have my camera to take a picture of the two of you," Murata continued. "Jennifer would love it! I am going back to Entrow's shop and find something for myself before we go home." The other boy draped his arms over his and Wolfram's shoulders and guided them to the table. "Come try the citrus tea while we wait to be introduced, it's amazing!"

When Yuuri glanced behind them, Gunter gave him a distracted smile of greeting and continued speaking with his daughter in a low voice. Both of them seemed awfully serious for the situation.

"Is something wrong?" he asked Murata.

The other boy peered at him over his glasses before pushing them back into place. "Nah, they're into a debate about Aeriemille history. They've taken up sides on the wisdom of the rules of succession. Your timing was perfect by the way, it was getting so BOORing."

Gisela's voice called across the room, "I heard that!" and Murata winced as he poured tea for them.

Wolfram took the steaming cup he held out and sipped carefully. "Good! How long do you think it will be before we're called?"

Yuuri got his own cup. "I counted about five groups in the entry. Let's say five minutes each for the reading of the names and the walk down the staircase. I'd guess less than half an hour."

Murata explained, "They enter based on rank, the lowest to the highest. Silly if you ask me. If a middling lord is late, they have to hold everything up until he arrives. And if he is too late and they go on without him, he is not allowed in when he does arrive. As the guests of honor, we have to wait until all the nobility are announced. King Jaida will join the festivities after us."

Yuuri rolled his eyes, "That's awfully complicated."

"Fortunately," Wolfram reminded him, "It's only for the really formal affairs."

A soft repetitive sound drew Yuuri's attention down. Wolfram's left foot was tapping against the high-gloss wood floor. "Nervous?"

Seeing what he was doing, Wolfram immediately stopped. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm not a wimp. Let's sit while we wait."

Actually grateful for a few minutes respite before they had to perform for Jaida's other guests, Yuuri gladly followed him.

-o0O0o-

Murata listened to Yuuri's amusing description of the Aeriemille councilors' mustaches while not obviously watching the false Wolfram. The foot tapping wasn't like their Wolfram. It must be a habit of the man behind the spell. Fortunately, he and Gisela had fully briefed Gunter before the royal party arrived. The older man's eclectic knowledge had helped them come up with a viable plan. It would be tricky and require precise timing but ought to work.

The drawback was they had to wait for Gisela and her father to slip away and return with what they needed to safely take the imposter down without harming Wolfram. He worried the man might strike his target before they were ready. Without knowing who to trust among the Aeriemille nobles and staff, they only had themselves to depend on to protect Jaida, assuming she was the target. He wished they knew more.

A polite knock at the door alerted them. The footman had returned.

"It's time, Your Majesty, Lords, Lady."

Yuuri and the imposter stood and the others moved into position behind them to follow where the footman led. Murata caught Gwendal's eye. Both nodded. It was time indeed.

With that, they proceeded down the hall in the footman's wake to join the reception.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Time is running out. Before the sun rises again, actions will be taken and fates decided, for better or for worse. Will Wolfram's plan avert disaster? Be here for __**Chapter 6: Dance with the Reaper**__._


	6. Chapter 6: Dance with the Reaper

Summary: While on a diplomatic mission, Yuuri and Wolfram visit a merchant's shop, but it isn't Wolfram who walks out.

Warning: I've tried for vivid descriptions of injuries in this chapter, so just in case I succeeded...

_AN: I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. Thank you, thank you, thank you, to all my reviewers! Enjoy and please review. Thanks! P.S., text between asterisks = *thought communication*_

**With This Ring**

**Chapter 6: Dance with the Reaper**

"His Majesty Yuuri Shibuya, the King of Shin Makoku, and Prince Wolfram von Bielefeld."

The double doors opened and they made their entrance. Focusing on dignity, Yuuri descended the fanning black-veined white marble staircase with Wolfram at his side. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead. Mustn't watch where his feet were going and risk appearing subservient to those of lesser rank. A thick burgundy runner cushioned each step so if he fell, at least it wouldn't hurt too much.

"Lord Gwendal von Voltaire and Lord Gunter von Kleist of the Shin Makoku delegation."

Halfway down. Once they reached the ballroom floor, he'd be able to breathe.

"Lord Conrart Weller, the Lady Gisela von Kleist, and Lord Ken Murata of the Shin Makoku delegation."

Nothing moved in the huge ballroom. Everyone, noble and servant alike, was staring at them. Suddenly images from Shori's graduation popped into Yuuri's head. When his class paraded down the aisle two by two, proud parents and friends watched from all sides, taking snapshots and recording with handhelds and from more professional cameras on tripods. This was a lot like that but without the smiles or the technology. That last bit though he figured was a good thing.

They reached the landing in one piece. As soon as the others reached him and Wolfram, the guests en masse bowed at the waist in a sign of welcome and courtesy. Then all heads turned to face the top of the staircase. The ornate double doors were once again closed. Everyone waited for the last entrance of the evening.

The gentle music that had been playing faded away and a new tune filled the air. Despite being performed by what sounded like a string quartet, the music has a military feel to it that Yuuri had previously believed only brass instruments could achieve. The pulse vibrated in his bones. Yuuri resisted the urge to look around and see how the musicians were doing it.

"Her Gracious Majesty, King Jaida of Aeriemille, long may she reign."

The doors opened once again, and King Jaida swept in. Yuuri had seen that term used in some of the books he'd read for homework assignments, but he had never expected to see someone do it with his own eyes.

A vision in sienna, forest green, and copper tones, Jaida descended the staircase with two ladies-in-waiting more demurely dressed in the same color scheme following in her wake, one to the left and the other to the right. Her gown fit like a second skin from her hips to just below the shoulders, leaving them bare, framed by a thick braid of shimmery copper cloth and green and rusty brown ribbons. The sleeves reached past her wrists where they belled slightly. A folded fan hung on a thin cord from her right wrist.

The skirt was layered like the petals of a chrysanthemum, each layer progressively darker until the hem layer was just a few shades off from true brown. With each step, they'd lift and drift back into place, giving the impression that she was floating down the stairs.

But what really drew his eyes was her hair. It wasn't so much styled as sculpted. Some of the long brownish red strands had been twisted into tiny braids and draped into a nest for the formal diadem of diamond-studded starburst points she wore for the occasion.

When Jaida reached the landing where he stood, Yuuri saw that more braids twined with the loose hair and fancy beaded combs to shape it into a series of tapering waves cascading down her back. Thinking how long that must have taken made his own stint with his dressers seem like a picnic.

Yuuri stepped forward, away from the others. For the space of a breath, he faced the other monarch. Jaida's expression was just as solemn as his but the sparkle in her eyes gave him hope for the rest of the evening.

On the last note of the anthem, they bowed to each other simultaneously and at the same angle. Per Gunter, it declared to all present that they were on equal footing as rulers and in negotiations.

Next, as hostess and guest of honor, Jaida and he would officially start the evening with the first dance. Yuuri stood straight and offered his arm with a smile. Jaida returned it and placed her hand lightly on the glittering sleeve. He escorted her to the center of the dance floor. The hidden musicians began a piece with a waltz tempo. Assuming the proper hold, Yuuri led her into the dance with a smoothness that he was sure had Gunter grinning from ear to ear with pride in his student.

After their first circuit of the ballroom, other dancers slipped onto the floor. With their company, he didn't feel so self-conscious.

"You look beautiful tonight, Jaida."

"Thank you," she accepted his sincere compliment with a smile. "They're behind the dragon screen."

"Huh?"

Something in his expression made Jaida's smile come alive. She pointed with a careful nod of her head. "See the balcony across from the staircase? The quartet is behind the screen, above the fray. Long ago, the musicians had a place on the floor itself. However, one of my ancestors had them moved after an inebriated guest stumbled into the screen during a very important ceremony and shattered an even more expensive instrument. It was three generations before that noble's family was allowed to attend court functions."

Yuuri winced in sympathy. He hoped none of his social faux pas ended up part of Shin Makoku historical record. Well, except for the big one. Unfortunately the story of the slap that got him engaged to Wolfram would be told for centuries to come.

"I think putting the band up there is perfect. The sound travels better."

"You're right there." Her expression took on a naughty child's secret smirk. "Honestly? I think the move had already been in the works. I've read the histories. The balcony was a late addition to the ballroom. I believe that ancestor of mine simply didn't like that particular noble and took advantage of the opportunity."

Yuuri's eyes widened, then both rulers burst into delighted laughter. Some of the other dancers stared in disapproval at their lack of decorum but Yuuri didn't really care. He was beginning to enjoy himself at last.

"After this dance, do you want to grab some punch and sit and talk for a bit?"

"I'd love to, but for the next hour we must both speak with each of the heads of the noble houses represented here tonight. Seek me out after that." Jaida's head tilted slightly to the left as she gazed into his eyes. "King Yuuri of Shin Makoku, I find that I like you very much. Your honesty is fresh air clearing the thick smoke of a smoldering fire. I consider you a friend, to me and my country."

He nodded in agreement. "I feel the same way, as do my advisers."

"I am glad. Aeriemille has need of friends."

Her smile and eyes were suddenly much too serious, almost sad. "What do you mean?"

For a moment he thought she was going to explain, but like a chameleon, her demeanor changed to fit their surroundings."

"That conversation is for another day. Shall we schedule a picnic with your fiancé in the next few days?"

"It's a date."

The music ended and Yuuri escorted his partner back to the sidelines. Jaida rejoined her ladies and moved off to begin her circuit of the room. Yuuri did the same, Conrad at his side.

-o0O0o-

As soon as the other couples began joining Yuuri and Jaida on the dance floor, Murata sidled down the side wall, passing all the refreshment stations until he reached Gisela who stood near the servant's entrance pretending to nibble at the plate of hors d'oeuvres in her hand. She'd twisted her hair up on her head and pinned it in place with jade hair sticks. She really looked beautiful in her blush pink empire waist evening gown, a pale green orchid pinned at her left shoulder. Even as he approached he saw a disappointed potential dance partner walk away to find a willing lady.

Gisela gave him a bright smile though the tension around her eyes put the lie to the cheer she'd put on for anyone watching.

"I wish you could have said yes."

"There'll be time for dancing after we rescue Wolfram." She set her plate down on a folding tray set up for used dishes. "The kitchens are this way. I can get some of what we need there."

Murata gave her a short bow and swept his hand in gallant's gesture, "After you," and followed the healer into the side corridor.

-o0O0o-

The shadows of the string quartet behind the backlit translucent screen depicting dragons soaring over a mountain range added an ethereal touch to the soothing music wafting through the air. It was just loud enough to set the mood without interfering with conversation.

Imposter, untouched drink in hand, kept himself ready for opportunity while making the required small talk and fending off the occasional flirt. One rather obnoxious nobleman, several cups of wine ahead of the game, was very persistent. He refused to take a hint. No matter where he went, the fool trailed after him, intruding into conversations with what he thought were subtle innuendoes.

Gods, if Bielefeld put up with this kind of crap on a daily basis, no one should be surprised he had a temper. If it weren't for his mission, Wolfram's second to the last act this night would top any tantrum in his past.

He needed to deal with the drunkard now. Already the king and his ever-present bodyguard were drifting his way, either to defend Wolfram's honor or to prevent flaming disaster. If he was to have the freedom needed to accomplish his master's objective, he did not need the two men safeguarding him. So with a sly smile, Imposter bent closer to whisper in the man's ear.

By the time Yuuri reached him, his problem had fled the room with as much dignity as his state allowed. Everyone heard him lose the contents of his stomach in the foyer. Imposter's smile widened.

"Wolfram, what did you do?" the Demon King whispered, keeping a pleasant expression on his face.

"Nothing. The man offered to show me his magnificent package. I offered to roast it for him. Apparently my descriptive language put him off."

Imposter almost felt sorry for the tongue of the Demon King who was obviously biting it to keep from laughing out loud. Conrart showed absolutely no reaction at all. He had excellent control, a dangerous man indeed.

Yuuri saluted him with his glass of fruit punch. "I ought to know better than to worry about you."

He returned it, "Wimp. It's my job to protect you, remember. I can protect myself. And don't think I'm not keeping an eye on you. No flirting, got it?"

"Got it."

In his peripheral vision, Imposter saw King Jaida angling toward the buffet. "I think I'll get something to eat. Shall I bring you something, Yuuri, Conrart?"

"Not right now. Gunter is heading this way with…" he concentrated, "Lord and Lady Erkstein. It'll be a while before I can get free. Go ahead. I'll eat when I can. We can share dessert later."

With a nod, Imposter left the pair to make his way toward their royal hostess. The time with her dressers had been well spent. The brocaded sienna gown with its layers of slips and whatever else it took to maintain that bell shape, the tightly laced bodice that compressed the detriments and enhanced the attributes of a woman's figure, and the elaborate braid and gemstone sculpture that her hair had become made a perfect picture. But it did have a severe setback. Her handmaidens had to bring food and drink to her because the belled skirt didn't let her approach the buffet stations safely. Jaida's movement was so restricted he wondered if she has sacrificed the ability to sit tonight for fashion.

All the better for his plans.

Imposter stepped into her line of sight to take up a plate and add a selection of meat pastries to it.

"Lord von Bielefeld," she greeted him with a sunny smile. "I'm very glad you bought the jacket after all. It's one of Master Entrow's best efforts. It's almost as if he made it with you in mind. I daresay you are the most handsome person here tonight."

With a courtier's bow, he turned the compliment back. "With the exception of your Majesty, of course."

"What, this old thing?" She fluttered an ivory lace fan coyly in front of her face then dropped the façade to admit, "Honestly, I hate this thing. Whoever designed the formal garb of Aeriemille royalty must have hated the last queen."

Imposter shrugged, "I have to admit, it doesn't look very comfortable. There's a saying where Yuuri comes from, something about suffering for beauty. This sort of thing must be what he meant."

"I'd feel less put out if the suffering was shared equally. How much will you wager that if men were forced to wear corsets the dratted things would quickly and quietly cease to exist."

"A distinct possibility," he smirked over the lip of his champagne flute, the bubbles tickling his nose, "although I know a few noblemen who might benefit from that particular fashion."

Jaida arched an eyebrow at him, "Lord von Bielefeld, you have a wicked sense of humor."

He shrugged, "So I've been told."

Behind the screen, the quartet began another composition and the King's face lit with pleasure. "Oh, I love this tune! Would you care to dance, my lord?"

Imposter bowed at the waist, hiding any betrayal in his expression as the woman gave him the opening he'd been waiting for.

"I do indeed, Your Majesty. And it is my honor to be your second partner of the evening."

Jaida gave him a perfect curtsey and let him take her hand in his. Once on the dance floor, she settled into his frame and they stepped gracefully into the waltz. He smiled. If she only knew she danced to _his_ tune.

As they spun and floated around the floor, Imposter heard the compliments of the observers. No few caught his eyes as they passed. Some he knew were his confederates but which ones he didn't even try to guess. If things went wrong, the less he knew the better.

"You seem distracted, my lord. Am I that poor a partner?" Jaida gently teased him.

"Not in the least, King Jaida. I was just thinking how beautiful you look tonight. Not many people get to die looking their best."

He watched the terror blossom in her eyes as he pulled her close, grinned as he triggered the accelerant spell his master had given him.

-o0O0o-

Huddled with Gisela over a small black kettle in the castle apothecary, Murata felt the change in the magical atmosphere. His head shot up so fast, he knocked into the healer's head with a painful thump. Rubbing her forehead while stirring their concoction, she stared at him with concern.

"What is it?"

"We're out of time."

Gisela's face went white. Without another word, she helped him pour their brew into a bottle. It would have to be enough. He slapped a cork into the neck, passed it to her, and then they were running full speed toward the ballroom, leaving the puzzled herbalist in their wake.

-o0O0o-

Imposter grabbed a fistful of Jaida's skirt. When the flames caught the layered cloth, the woman would go up like a torch.

To his shock, the magical fire refused to burn her. It flowed away from Jaida as if an invisible shield protected her. No time to wonder how or why. His window was rapidly closing. They were close to one of the buffet stations. He reached out, grabbed a steak knife, and thrust for her heart.

Someone, one of her attending ladies, barreled into his side, throwing off his aim so that the blade sheered along her left side, parting the silk to expose the metal chest guard beneath her gown. As he fell, he saw Jaida stagger backward, falling into one of the other dancing couples, clutching her side as she stumbled to her knees.

Then he hit the floor with the other woman on top of him. She slammed his knife hand repeatedly against the hardwood. He boxed her ear with his free hand. The woman growled at him as the wig slipped to cover half of her… no, _his_ face. Yosak!

Damn! How long had they known? Didn't matter, he had to kill Jaida and get out!

By now their struggle had entangled several of the dancers who were now running into each other in their attempts to get out of the way. Around them, people were beginning to realize what was going on. Word was traveling like a wave through the ballroom.

"It's the Demon Prince!" "He's attacked our King!" "Assassin!" "King Jaida's dead!"

If only she were. He'd missed the kill strike, but at least the second prong of their mission was well underway. No matter Jaida's preferences, her people would never accept an alliance with the Demon Kingdom now.

The shouts and screams provided a counterpoint to his fierce, near silent and dirty battle with the half breed spy. Imposter managed a vicious knee blow to Yosak's ribcage, throwing the bigger man off of him. He leapt to his feet and ran at Jaida again. She scrambled to her feet, a small knife she'd somehow armed herself with in her hand, ready to defend herself.

-o0O0o-

Miles away and still hidden under the blanket his captors had draped over him, Wolfram sensed the Imposter's attention go fully to his attempt on Jaida, leaving him the opening he had been waiting for.

Now!

He launched his dearly hoarded strength down the ring bond and into his double.

-o0O0o-

Imposter felt heat engulf his hand. When he felt pain, so faint at first, he ignored it. When it escalated, he raised his left hand to stare at it, horrified. White hot flames surged around the fingers, eating away at his flesh. Imposter flung his hand about wildly, trying to free himself from the fire's grip. Tongues of it scattered, sparking fires wherever they landed but the main of it clung to him and burned even more fiercely.

He screamed in rage and pain as he sensed the cause of his torment.

*You!*

Von Bielefeld didn't respond, but he sensed the Demon Prince's defiance and determination as he sent even more fire down the bond.

*The next time I see you, I am going to tear your freakish heart out!*

He called out the shield spell that protected him from the accelerant spell he'd tried to use against Jaida. Wolfram's flames flickered a moment, then roared back stronger than ever.

Now he was screaming in earnest as his flesh began to char.

-o0O0o-

At first, Yuuri paid no attention to the rising voices. After all it was a party. But then the sound took on an edge of panic. He turned to Conrad and saw the concern on his face. The taller man was staring over the heads at something happening on the dance floor. Concentrating, Yuuri was able to make out some of the words.

"… Jaida's dead … burn us all … assassin … demon killed…"

Then he saw the flames and smoke rising above the now panicking mob and heard the agonized screaming. The stench of burning flesh choked him.

"Wolf."

"Yuuri, wait!"

He ignored Conrad's outcry, forcing his way against the tide of guests and servants fleeing the room. His only thoughts were for Wolfram and Jaida, who he'd last seen dancing in that vicinity. Something awful must have happened for the fire demon to call his element under these circumstances. He had to get to them!

As the ballroom emptied, it got easier to move forward. Yuuri saw some servants and a few guests who'd kept their heads and were trying to put out several spot fires. He sensed though that they were born of Wolfram's maryoku, which meant only he could put them out. With a flick of his fingers, Yuuri sent small water spouts to contain them for the time being, never breaking stride.

When he reached his goal, coughing hoarsely on the foul smoke, his heart almost stopped in his chest. Jaida was being steadied by one of the ladies she'd entered the ballroom with who wielded a very deadly looking knife. Jaida stepped free of her and took a fighter's stance, her gown torn, the once perfect hair a mess, and wielding a small but deadly dagger of her own, which he realized suddenly had served as a decorative comb in her hair minutes ago.

In front of her crouched Yosak dressed as one of her ladies in waiting, wig askew, patches of the dress singed, one hand clutching his side. Deepening bruises gave evidence of the fight he must have engaged in with the man writhing on the floor before them.

He was screaming and sobbing, curled around his burning hand. Even as Yuuri stared, horrified as he recognized the green jacket and the blonde hair, blisters burst and skin blackened over muscles contracting the fingers into claws as the fire consumed them.

Yuuri immediately called forth his own element. Deal with the most urgent problem, he told himself. The rest will have to wait for later.

The water dragon flowed into being between his cupped hands and shot forward to coil around the smaller man and engulf his fire-covered hand. For a few seconds, the flames continued to feed, but then as if recognizing his opposing element as a friend, the fire, including the spot fires scattered about the battle zone contracted and withdrew.

By now, Conrad had reached him. "Yuuri, stay back!" his godfather shouted, his voice hoarse from smoke irritation. "He's not Wolfram!"

"I know."

-o0O0o-

People tearing in a panic down the hall in the opposite direction they wanted to go slowed their advance to the point that Murata wanted to scream. He grabbed the arm of a woman in a white apron with flour dusting her hands and smeared across one pale cheek.

"What's going on?"

"The castle's on fire! They say the demons have turned on us, killed King Jaida, and are attacking our country. Let me go, I have to get to my babies!"

She twisted free and was gone before Murata had a chance to reassure her. He shared a worried look with Gisela.

Things were about to get ugly.

-o0O0o-

The man wearing his fiancé's face turned to him with such a look of hurt betrayal that if he had been who he pretended to be, Yuuri would already be reassuring him and begging forgiveness for ever doubting him. "I don't know what's wrong with Conrart, but I'm me." He pushed wet hair out of his face. "Look at me, Yuuri! You know who I am."

"I know who you _aren't_. Our Wolfram would never have lost control of his fire like this."

"I haven't!" the other gasped rocking on his knees now with his ruined arm cradled against his chest. "Someone in the crowd turned my fire against me, some kind of foreign spell. Please, Yuuri, help me. It hurts."

"Wolf would never attack a friend either. You want us to help you? Then tell us who you are and where Wolfram is!"

Tears were streaming down the so familiar face. "Stop acting like you don't know me! What is wrong with you two?"

Yuuri was growing dangerously irritated. In response, the water dragon tightened its coils around the false Wolfram, cutting off the lies. Yuuri bent closer. "Where is Wolfram?"

Green eyes darted around the room and a look of satisfaction transformed his expression. Yuuri followed the path the imposter's gaze took. He had been so focused on dealing with the fires and the realization that his Wolfram wasn't with them, that he'd lost track of what was going on around him.

The ballroom was practically empty. Even the people who had stayed to try to put out the fires were gone.

Gisela and Murata were nowhere to be seen. Gwendal was having a fierce whispered conversation with Gunter, and two of his own men a little way off. One, apparently an air demon, began opening the windows and exterior doors for the breeze he called to clear the smoky air. Gunter, after a glance and a nod of reassurance his way, strode swiftly out with the other soldier through the door Yuuri had seen servants using earlier. Gwendal headed their way.

Other than his own people and Jaida and her lady bodyguard, the only other people in the room were Jaida's Captain of the Guard who was directing some of Jaida's troupes to guard the entrances even as he descended the grand staircase.

He remembered the words he'd heard before everything went crazy and felt his face go white as he realized that every one of the guests and servants who'd fled believed that Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld had just attempted to assassinate their King. Within the hour the entire town would hear that the Demon Kingdom attacked their sovereign, or worse. His people were out there celebrating, unarmed and outnumbered. If the crowds turned into a mob, they didn't stand a chance. He turned to face his chief counselor.

"Gwendal…!"

The eldest brother quickly assured him, "Gunter is taking a troupe of men to bring our people back to the castle. They will be safe here, and if necessary they will defend them," he glanced Jaida's way, "with minimum force."

She gave him a solemn nod.

Yuuri, angrier than he remembered ever being, faced their prisoner. "That was your plan all along, wasn't it, to disrupt the talks and end any chance of a treaty between Aeriemille and Shin Makoku."

"We only succeeded in part. I failed to kill Jaida. But we have your prince where your magic cannot find him."

Yuuri felt anger transform into fury burning in his chest as his realization of the danger to his people and to Wolfram brought a smug smile to the assassin's lips, despite the agony he must be suffering.

"You'll need my help to find him. Deal with me," he turned to face Conrart who had been a silent sentry at Yuuri's back throughout the exchange and Gwendal who now stood beside him, his face so very blank, "or never see your baby brother again."

He turned back to Yuuri, triumph in his eyes. "Don't take too long to say yes. Tick tock."

And deep within him the Maoh woke.

-o0O0o-

"My orders are no one enters, no one else leaves."

Murata drove his fingers through his hair, "I don't believe this!" For the last five minutes he and Gisela had been arguing and bluffing their way passed a cordon of security – suspiciously absent when it was needed. In Shin Makoku, his reputation would have been enough to get them in, but here that counted for nothing.

"Let me explain this one more time. We need to get to King Yuuri now before things go too far to prevent an inter-country incident. Lives are at stake!"

"I don't have the authority to…"

"Apparently, you don't have a brain either!"

Murata raised an eyebrow at the tone of Gisela's voice and got out of her way. Seeing a petite and gorgeous lady in an elegant evening gown, the poor soldier simply had no idea what he faced. Murata wanted to have a good viewpoint for the confrontation.

All patience gone, Gisela advanced on the suddenly nervous guard like a force of nature. "Look, you imbecilic, two-dimensional, twit! A man is dying because you don't have the sense of a brick wall. The assassin in there may well have information your King needs to prevent irreparable damage to your country. Are you willing to take responsibility for depriving her, your nation, of vital intelligence? Where I come from, that's treason and punishable by swift and summary execution. In your case, I would happily wield the axe. Think for yourself for the first time in your miserable life and let us in!"

Gisela didn't bother to wait for permission. She placed her palm flat against his breastbone and shoved with controlled force, sending the wide-eyed fool staggering backward into a potted plant, and stalked through the door. Murata paused long enough to give him a not very sympathetic smile and trotted after the medic.

When he caught up with her, Gisela shot him a glare hard enough to shatter glass.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smiled with genuine admiration. "Just thinking how very different you are from Gunter."

"Don't make assumptions, Geika. I am my father's daughter."

At the top of the staircase, the unmistakable stink of burned flesh and cloth hit him. Murata gaze scanned the room until he found who he sought. The imposter sat on the floor surrounded by Yuuri, Conrad, Gwendal, Yosak, Jaida, and her companion. And he was smiling at Yuuri.

Even from where he stood with Gisela, he felt the warning aura that preceded the Maoh's arrival.

"You handle the fake, leave Yuuri to me."

He ran down the stairs so fast his feet barely touched the steps.

-o0O0o-

That smile on Wolfram's face creeped him out and infuriated the Maoh within. Yuuri knew the moment his eyes stated to change because for the first time since their confrontation began, the imposter showed a trace of fear. Yuuri gave him a feral smile of his own.

A face imposed itself between him and his enemy. A growl rattled in his throat and he reached out to shove it out of the way. Hands caught his and held him still.

"Yuuri, you need to control yourself. We'll need the Maoh, but not yet."

The haze that covered his mind in the moments before the Maoh took over lifted enough for him to recognize who stood before him.

"Murata?"

His old friend gave him a grin, "Welcome back, Shibuya."

A touch on his shoulder brought Yuuri's focus to Jaida who peered into his eyes, her own understanding.

"Do what you need to do with this failed imposter, Yuuri." She pitched her voice to carry throughout the ballroom, reaching even the guard at the top of the staircase. "Find your fiancé. I will make sure no one else suffers this night."

Yuuri managed a stiff nod, most of his concentration on preventing or at least controlling the Maoh's emergence.

She gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, spun on her heel, and quick stepped toward a cluster of her soldiers with her companion in her wake. "Come with me, Captain. It's time we reassured our people that I am alive and well."

The sound of sharp heels running across the hardwood floor alerted him to Gisela's approach. Fearing she meant to go to the imposter's aid believing he was Wolfram, Yuuri reached out to block her way. The green-haired medic dodged him easily, but to his surprise she stopped well out of the fake's reach, pulled a cork out of the bottle in her hand, and flung the contents into the man's face. The assassin stared at her as if he thought she'd gone mad, then his eyes widened even further and he frantically tried to wipe whatever it was away with his good hand.

"It won't do any good." There was a hard satisfaction in Gisela's voice. "It's absorbed through the skin. In fact you're only speeding the process."

"What process?" Yuuri asked, watching the man's movements become more erratic. "What was that stuff?"

"It's a cocktail of potions my father and I devised on the fly." Gisela glanced briefly his way, "It took longer than I liked for Geika and me to gather and hobble all the ingredients together. We combined a nerve paralytic, a hypnotic, and a medicine we give it to patients who come into relationship with their elements too soon or who have lost control for whatever reason. It blocks their access to maryoku until they're ready to master it."

While Gisela explained, the imposter slumped to the floor, barely moving now. Yuuri recalled his water dragon. It was no longer needed.

"What will it do to him?"

Murata answered for her, "Prevent him from interfering when we use the ring to find Wolfram."

The ring. Yes, it all started when they took that tour of the city with Jaida. That's when the fake said someone gave him the ring they'd admired before the start of the party. Their Wolfram must have been taken that day, right from under his nose.

Yuuri looked to the charred hand, expecting to see heat warped metal. To his surprise, the serpent ring showed no damage at all. In fact, the faceted eyes glared back at him with a sentient malevolence so strong it actually caused him to take a step back. Impossible, a ring can't be alive.

Then why is it rearing its head back and hissing at him?

"Whoa!"

At his outcry, the three soldiers moved. Conrart put himself between him and the assassin. Yosak pulled two thin blades from somewhere and tossed one to his godfather who caught it deftly. Gwendal had drawn the hidden blade he'd demonstrated before, and all three looked ready to start carving the man smirking with Wolfram's face into very tiny pieces.

Murata took command. "Everyone stand down! Ignore it, Yuuri. Cooperation is not required for this to work."

"Ooookay." He took a deep breath and tried to do that. "You said we needed the Maoh."

The other double black turned him so he was facing their prisoner again. "Open to the Maoh but keep control. Justice has to wait if we're going to rescue Wolfram."

Yuuri took a deep breath and did his best to follow Murata's instructions. He visualized a window between him and the place in his mind where the Maoh rested. He pictured it opening an inch and the Maoh force flowing in like a cool breeze on a hot day, refreshing him and filling him with strength.

"That's it." The other boy's voice had a soothing effect, like a hypnotist guiding his subject. "Now look at the ring again and tell me what you see."

"Nothing… No, wait." Faint sparks of green and purple flitted in and out of his vision. Yuuri squinted and narrowed his focus on the sparks. They began to coalesce and take on a more definite shape.

-o0O0o-

Imposter lay still on the floor. The healer's potion was working, but he still has some voluntary movement. Why had so much gone wrong? He'd failed his masters once tonight. He refused to fail a second time. He shifted the false tooth at the back of his mouth with his tongue and bit down, breaking it open and releasing its bitter contents.

-o0O0o-

Murata jumped at the cracking sound echoing through the room. It and his movement broke Yuuri's concentration.

"Wha…?"

"I don't know, Yuuri. Does anyone know where that sound came from?"

Gwendal pointed, "The prisoner!"

The assassin convulsed brutally, bloody foam frothing over his lips and down his chin. Murata beat Gisela to his side by only a few seconds. She pressed two fingers to the man's carotid pulse, heedless of the ruin his blood was making of her gown. Her scowl deepened after she checked his eyes.

"I don't understand. His heart rate is thin, pupils dilated. What we gave him shouldn't have this effect."

Murata swore, "He's poisoned himself."

Gisela stared, "And if he dies?"

"The ring bond dies with him, and we lose our only link to Wolfram."

Suddenly Gwendal was there, a hand fisted around the dying man's throat, shaking him hard enough to snap his head back and forth. "Damn you, where is my brother?" But it did no good; the man was already too far gone.

Murata fought his own panic. He needed to think clearly now, more than at any other moment in this lifetime. There had to be a way….

"Gisela, can you heal the damage enough to keep him alive until the Maoh can reach Wolfram?"

Her hands shot out to hover over the dying man's heart and throat. The green glow of her magic gradually brightened, casting the too still face in ghastly shadows.

"I'd do my best, but whatever he took is devastating his systems. He won't last long."

Murata spun to face Yuuri who wore a horrified look as he struggled with the realization that someone was willing to commit suicide to keep him from saving Wolfram. Murata grabbed his face between his hands.

"Yuuri! Look at me! There's still a chance. When you stared at the ring, you started to see something, didn't you?"

"Yes, sparkles."

"Good, now find them again. Don't think, just focus on the ring."

His friend gave a shaky nod, took a steadying breath, and stared again at the ring. After a while, a relieved smile lightened Yuuri's face. Seven seconds had never been so long before.

"I see it now, there's a rope of light. It goes that way." He pointed to the glass doors that opened onto the interior gardens. "But it keeps fading in and out."

"That's because the imposter is dying. Follow it, Yuuri, quickly. Wolfram's at the other end. When you get there, remove the ring he'll be wearing as soon as you possibly can."

Nodding, Yuuri turned to the brothers. "I'll send up a signal when I reach him. Watch for it."

"Yes, Heika."

"We'll be there as fast as horses can take us."

His gaze went to Gisela. She gave him a brave smile.

"Whatever it takes, Heika, we will keep him alive until you bring Wolfram back to us."

Murata watched Yuuri close his eyes and summon his element. The largest water dragon he had ever called formed, no doubt guided by his desperate need. It coiled close to the floor and he mounted it, settling behind its ear fins. So fast that their wake nearly threw Murata off his feet, Yuuri and the dragon swept out of the ballroom, through the garden, over the castle walls, and into the night.

-o0O0o-

_AN: Jaida has been saved and Yuuri is riding to Wolfram's rescue. What awaits him on the other side of the ring bond? Be here for __**Chapter 7: After the Ball**__._

-o0O0o-

_Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me. This is my first attempt at an "action scene" - please review and let me know what you think. Chapter 7 is coming along fast so there won't be as long a wait for the next posting. Happy belated New Year!_


	7. Chapter 7: After the Ball

Rating: T

Summary: While on a diplomatic mission, Yuuri and Wolfram visit a merchant's shop, but it isn't Wolfram who walks out.

_AN: Asterisks indicate thought communication. I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters. Thanks to all of you for your patience and your wonderful comments. I'd planned for this to be the last chapter but the story had other ideas, and it took me a while to rewrite parts to accommodate it. There will be one more chapter after this, unless … well, you know. Enjoy and please review. Thanks!_

**With This Ring**

**Chapter 7: After the Ball**

Yuuri had never traveled so fast outside of a car or plane in his life. The chilly air stung his exposed skin and whipped his hair back and out of his face. Any other time he'd be relishing the sensations, but he only knew the fear growing in him as the glow of what Murata had called the ring bond grew weaker. His normally stoic friend hadn't been able to mask his emotions for once. From the expression on his face when he'd told him to hurry, Yuuri suspected that the fading of life it indicated went both ways.

"Hurry!" he shouted over the rushing air. The water dragon nodded and surged forward, what little landscape visible by starlight flying by faster and faster.

-o0O0o-

"Do you think he succeeded?"

"Not our concern, he's on his own. We all knew from the beginning that his was the riskiest part of the plan. Whatever's happened, we have to complete our parts."

Wolfram, huddled at the feet of Tall One and Shorter One, barely heard their conversation. All his focus was on feeding the ring bond. Through Assassin's ears, he'd heard Murata tell Yuuri to use it to find him. On the other side of the bond his imposter was doing his best to die and thwart them. He had to do his part to keep it alive, no matter what.

If only he weren't so tired….

Droning monotone voices pulled him back toward consciousness. The sensation of someone tugging on the serpent ring brought him the rest of the way. He tried to clench his hand into a fist but was too late to stop his captors from removing it. Frantically, Wolfram reached for the bond that was no longer there.

No!

-o0O0o-

Even though it felt like hours, Murata knew it hadn't yet been thirty minutes since Yuuri set off on his rescue mission. Other than the Aeriemille guards at the entrances to the ballroom, only Conrart and Yosak stood vigil with him as Gisela fought her doomed battle with death. To act as guards Gwendal had insisted even as he reluctantly left to deal with the crisis triggered by the attempt to assassinate the country's king. Murata actually appreciated his caution. Until they knew exactly who was involved in the conspiracy, none of them dared take their safety for granted. Besides, it freed him and the healer to focus all their attention on keeping the imposter alive.

Murata stood behind Gisela where she knelt beside her patient, his hands on her shoulders as he did his best to shore up her failing strength. Her own hands shook with exhaustion but he sensed her determination to give Yuuri the time he needed.

"Hold on," he urged, "just a little longer."

"One minute more," she whispered back. The phrase had evolved into a mantra, like a runner chanting "one more block" until those blocks became the next mile. But soon he'd have to stop her before she reached burnout.

"What the…?"

The odd quality in Yosak's voice broke through Murata's concentration. He looked up to see him pointing at their prisoner. The man's body was twisting, morphing just like in the movie special effects back home. From roots to tips, the bright blonde hair darkened to deepest brown, the strands no longer wavy but harshly straight. The skin color deepened to the shade of someone who spent a lot of time sunbathing. The face was older, more angular, and definitely not Wolfram's.

Conrart, not surprisingly, caught the implication first. He turned to him, his face pale and worried. "Geika?"

Murata knew what he wanted to ask. He didn't have an answer. Ignoring him for the moment, Murata reached around to take hold of Gisela's wrists and pull her hands away from the body.

"You can stop now," he told her gently and moved so he gazed into her face. Pushing the strands of green hair out of her eyes for a better look, Murata realized she had reached her limit. Gisela slumped so that her forehead rested against his chest, breathing heavily, her body vibrating with exhaustion. The healing glow around her hands faded away.

The assassin used his last breath to taunt them. "My game."

Dark eyes fixed wide in death. Murata reached out to close them.

The sensation of foreign magic crawled across his skin and he snatched his hand away.

"Everybody get back!"

Yosak and Conrart obeyed without hesitation. Taking hold of Gisela under her arms, he pulled her backward over the polished floor until they were several yards away from the corpse. A few of the sentries were running toward them to see what was going on.

Murata gaped along with everyone else as the dead man began to glow with a shimmering iridescent light that grew swiftly brighter until he had to shield his eyes. Then with an audible snap, the light was gone.

Blinking fiercely to readjust his vision, Murata looked back at the body.

Or what should have been the body. Nothing remained of it but a scattering of glittering ash that soon faded away. A couple of the guards made signs against evil. Murata didn't blame them.

"What in Shinou's name is going on here?"

The whispered query came from Yosak but he knew they were all thinking it. Murata shook his head.

"I have no clue. I've never read or heard of any magic capable of doing that."

Gisela gripped his hand to get his attention. "Was it enough?"

Had they kept the imposter alive long enough for the ring bond to lead Yuuri to Wolfram?

"I hope so.

-o0O0o-

His magical guide flickered one last time then vanished. Yuuri screamed his frustration into the night. Not now! He could keep going on his current heading, but in the dark and without the ring bond, he might easily pass Wolfram without knowing it.

That wasn't going to happen. He'd let Wolfram down already without even knowing it. Somewhere his friend was waiting for him, and he wasn't going to fail him again.

He just didn't know how.

*Then give me dominance, young one.*

Yuuri jumped, so startled by the deep voice in his head that he nearly lost his seat. The water dragon smoothly shifted to compensate.

"What?"

*No need to shout. I hear you well enough.*

*Maoh?* Yuuri stopped trying to speak over the air rushing in his years. *Uh, you can talk to me?*

Laughter rippled through his entire body. *When necessary. We have our own means to find our little spitfire, if you but knew the ways of your mind. That time is not yet. So allow me to act for you. Give me ascendance for a little while. I shall return it to you without the usual side effects.*

Which were hours of unconsciousness and no memories of his actions. Yuuri bit his lip. He admitted to himself he was a little scared. He had never intentionally given control to his Maoh side before.

But this was for Wolfram.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to do as his other self asked. He visualized himself opening a window in his mind and stepping out of the way.

Just as the Maoh promised, he remained conscious. No, more than conscious.

His senses intensified by magnitudes. He saw as if it were daylight. He heard the sounds of animals asleep in their underground burrows. The Maoh's power hit the water dragon like high octane jet fuel and its speed trebled, all the while sustaining a bubble of stillness around Yuuri's body that kept him warm and shielded him from wind resistance.

It was amazing!

*Our future holds this and much more, young one. Listen.*

Yuuri obeyed. And he heard the sound of horses' hooves pounding on hard-packed earth, the creak of a coach's suspension, and voices.

"His heart rate is normalizing."

"Finally. Our masters will not be pleased with us as it is. I hate to consider our fate if we brought them a dead demon prince."

Yuuri's relief and triumph matched the Maoh's as they raced to where the voices led them.

-o0O0o-

As he regained consciousness, Wolfram became aware of two things: surging nausea and the gag about to get in the way.

"Pull up! He's gone green again."

The carriage came to a gradual stop while one of the men, Tall One, he thought, undid the knots at the back of his head, pulling a few strands of his hair out by the roots in his haste, kicked open the door, and leaned him out barely in time to avoid fouling their transportation. The world dipped as Shorter One swung down from the driver's seat to join them.

"He's becoming dangerously dehydrated. Do we have anything to stop the vomiting?"

"No. There's a sedative. Enough of that and he'll sleep until we are well out to sea."

Wolfram heaved again.

"Assuming he can keep it down."

"Get it."

He was not about to let them drug him again! Wolfram gave his body a hard twist. It jerked him out of Tall One's grasp and he fell out of the carriage onto the road. Shorter One growled and reached for him. He kicked out with his bound feed, crashing into the man's right knee. He heard a satisfying snap and a howl of pain quickly cut off.

Wolfram scrambled backward as fast as his bound wrists and ankles let him. He knew he had no chance of getting away but he was determined to leave signs for his brothers to track him by. He rolled and kicked, tearing up loam and breaking shrubs and anything else he reached until Tall One caught his leg and dragged back onto the road.

"Don't think that will help you," the furious man spat out. "By the time your people get this far, we'll have you tucked in the hold of the fastest ship in the harbor and well out to sea. And don't think because we need you alive that we won't make you pay for all the trouble you've been."

Shorter One limped heavily over to them and held out a ceramic cup. The look he aimed at Wolfram made the threat a promise.

"Drink"

Wolfram pressed his lips together and stared back in defiance.

Tall One warned, "Either you drink or we leave you tied up and gagged, and you can enjoy the experience of choking on your own vomit."

Never make it easy. Delay as long as possible.

"Alright, have it your way."

Expecting to be gagged again, Wolfram wasn't prepared when Tall One straddled him, pinned him to the ground, and pinched his nose closed. He threw his head back and forth but the man held on. He tried to twist out from under him but wasn't strong enough. His efforts burned off the air still in his lungs and it wasn't long before survival reflex defeated willpower and he opened his mouth to breathe.

Shorter One grabbed his jaw to keep him from closing it again and poured the contents of the cup down his throat. A meaty hand clamped over his mouth to prevent him from spitting any of it out. Wolfram, despairing, swallowed.

The drug hit his system like a sledgehammer. Within a few moments, his body felt leaden, and it grew harder and harder to move.

"Sweet dreams," he heard as his vision went dark. "See you when you wake up."

-o0O0o-

Yuuri spotted a carriage drawn up at the side of the road and two men lifting a limp blonde body off the ground. The Maoh formed two more dragons and sent them darting ahead to coil around the men and sweep them away from Wolfram, who fell back, limp as a half-stuffed rag doll.

The dragons responded to Yuuri's sudden fear and the Maoh's controlled outrage and sent their captives crashing into the trees at the edge of the surrounding woods, rendering them unconscious and no immediate threat.

"Wolf!"

Yuuri leaped to the ground before his mount came to a full stop and staggered to his fiancé's side. He looked so dreadfully pale. In the space of a day, Wolfram had lost enough weight to leave his cheeks sunken as if he'd been on starvation rations for weeks.

He rolled him gently onto his side and began tearing at the ropes binding his arms with shaking fingers. Suddenly water formed before him in a narrow, edged blade.

*It's an old trick, little one. I'll teach it to you another day.*

Yuuri grasped the hilt. Cool to the touch, it felt weird, like water flowing against his skin without touching him. But it was solid.

"Thank you."

The water blade cut through the ropes with very little effort on his part. The second he freed him, Yuuri gathered Wolfram against his chest. He patted his face gently. "Hey, come on, Wolf. Wake up a little. It's me, Yuuri."

He'd heard everything, knew they'd drugged him, but he wanted, no, needed Wolfram to know he was safe before he succumbed completely.

Painfully slow, the eyelids opened to reveal pupils so dilated that their vivid green was only a thin ring around them. Wolfram stared up at him, blinked dazedly. Without warning, he began to flail, almost causing Yuuri to drop him.

*He cannot see us as we see him.*

Ah. "Wolf, it's okay, it's Yuuri. I'm here, you're safe. Everything's going to be alright now."

It took a while for his voice and words to reach through the drug fog in Wolfram's mind, but his smile, beautiful despite what he must've been through, was well worth his efforts.

The smaller boy reached up to touch his cheek as if to be sure he was real. "You're safe." His voice barely qualified as a whisper but the Maoh made it audible for him. "King Jaida?"

"She's fine, you stopped the assassin. I can't wait to hear how you managed to do that."

"… so tired … they … can't…"

"Shh. I know. It's okay for you to sleep now. You're safe with me, I'm not going anywhere. I dealt with those guys."

"You … the wimp…?"

Yuuri laughed softly, the sound way too close to tears, "Yeah, me. Tell you about it later. Rest now."

Wolfram's eyes closed and he settled himself against Yuuri's chest, one hand fisting in the cloth of his suit jacket.

Murata's warning to remove the ring came back to mind and Yuuri checked both of the sleeping demon's hands. All his fingers were bare, but the ring finger of his left hand was badly bruised around two deep punctures and streaked with fresh and drying blood.

"Oh, Wolf."

*'Ware the prisoners!*

Yuuri's head shot up and turned to where the two men were trapped by the water dragons.

Both were still unconscious in their coils, but as Yuuri stared in amazement, they began to glow as if their bodies contained trapped rainbows that wanted out. Foreboding twisted his gut and he called off the dragons. The kidnappers started to collapse but were glittering dust before they hit the ground.

"What was that?"

*I do not know,* the Maoh told him. *Malevolent. Powerful. New. Or very, very old."

Something powerful enough to reach out and dissolve two people from who knew how far away was not a force he wanted to face alone in unknown territory.

"I'm thinking we should leave now."

*Agreed.*

He stood with Wolfram in his arms. With the Maoh augmenting his strength, it took no effort at all. Their dragon shrank briefly to let him re-mount without a struggle. Flanked by the other two dragons, it carried them back the way they'd come.

-o0O0o-

Murata sat quietly on a stone bench in the garden Yuuri had launched from, watching for the sign he'd promised and thinking. A pair of troupers in Gwendal's colors stood at the glass doors. Other than a smiling nod of acknowledgement when the pair took up their posts, he paid them no mind. They'd been ordered to safeguard him wherever he went and to carry messages if necessary.

Gisela had gone to fetch her med kit in case Wolfram needed immediate medical treatment. Conrart left to join his older brother in arranging a rescue party. Yosak was off doing what he did best. Both men remembered the history of the ring bond he'd told them earlier that evening and were using action to deal with their fears. Meanwhile Murata racked his brain searching the memories of his past lives. In none of them so far had he experienced a similar use of the power that had destroyed the imposter's body. It felt nothing like the maryoku used by Demons or the houryoku of human magic wielders. Nor was he able to recall any lore about a third kind of magic.

And he didn't think he would. The force was so alien, Murata was sure any memory of it would have surfaced quickly.

"Geika?"

Once they were home, he'd ask Shinou and Priestess Ulrike. They had access to knowledge he didn't. Perhaps...

"Geika!"

Murata blinked. Gisela stood in front of him, snapping her fingers under his nose. She had taken the time to clean up and change into her medic uniform and looked much better for it. Her medical bag hung from her other hand.

"I take it there's been no sign of them."

"Not yet."

With a sigh, she sat beside him to wait. "Father's back. Our people are all accounted for and back within castle grounds. Fortunately they obeyed orders and stuck to the upper tiers."

"How much conflict are we facing?"

"Not as much as we feared, thankfully. King Jaida is fighting the gossip wave with another." A tiny smile broke her solemnity. "I've got to hand it to her, she thinks on her feet. She had all the food prepared for the reception loaded onto wagons and is adding it to the bounty of the various tier parties, distributing it herself, with adequate security, of course. That bit of news is spreading faster than the story of the attack."

His brows arched in appreciation, "That will help prevent some of the bloodshed tonight and give a plausible explanation for the additional troupes I'm sure are patrolling the streets."

"She even sent a decent spread to our wing with an apology for the abrupt change in plans. She left explanations to us."

Murata nodded. Jaida was indeed a king to be reckoned with. No wonder someone wanted her dead. Not everyone viewed a strong king as a positive thing.

Gisela's voice breached his thoughts again. "What exactly has that worry frown on your face?"

"The same things that likely are worrying you."

Her look turned skeptical, but Lady Gisela lived among the powers of her world and well understood the hierarchy so she wouldn't push for more information.

"For the wisest man in the world, you don't lie very well." She huffed delicately and threw her head up and to the side. The perfect imitation of a spoiled noblewoman in a snit startled a laugh out of him. She nodded approval. "Better. Don't borrow trouble, Geika. It comes to us easily enough without our help."

"Thou art," Murata bowed to the green-haired healer from his seat, "wiser than your years, my Lady."

Gisela smiled back and graciously accepted the compliment. She gazed out over the garden with him, neither really seeing the structured beauty of it.

The companionable silence lasted about ten minutes before Murata noticed something moving against the night sky, causing starlight to ripple. He sat up straight, leaning forward.

"Did you see something?" the healer asked.

Getting to his feet, Murata shaded his eyes from the torchlight streaming out from the castle behind them and squinted. The distortion of the glow from the stars matched the serpentine flight of a very large water dragon. As the shape got closer, he made out two passengers and grinned with relief.

"I do believe our Heika returns triumphant."

When the shape passed over the castle walls, it became visible to the others. Murata ordered the guards, "One of you go and inform Lords von Voltaire and Weller that King Yuuri has returned with Lord von Bielefeld."

Gisela shot him a puzzled glance then followed him and he raced toward the center of the garden where the water dragon was coiling on the grass amidst the statuary.

"The Maoh camouflaged their flight until they reached the inner walls," he called over his shoulder. "It's very likely we are the only ones to see them arrive."

And he had to wonder who or what they were hiding from.

Even as they approached, the dragon mount shrank until Yuuri's feet met the ground. As soon as he had his balance, it and its twin escorts flowed away to pour into the fountains scattered throughout the garden.

The healer went straight to Wolfram who lay too still across Yuuri's arms, which oddly enough were not shaking from the strain. When he met his friend's eyes, Murata saw that they were a blend of the Maoh's cat's eyes and Yuuri's wide guileless black eyes and his jaw dropped.

It meant that, to save Wolfram, Yuuri and the Maoh had achieved a balance that he hadn't expected to see for at least another couple of decades.

"They drugged him," Yuuri explained as a worried Gisela took Wolfram's vital signs. "They were going to take him away by sea. I figured if they needed him alive, it wouldn't be a harmful drug. Please tell me I was right."

After a bit a reassuring smile cleared the anxiety from Gisela's face. "It must have been a powerful sedative to suppress his respiration and heart rate this deeply, but they are not at dangerous levels. His physical injuries aren't life threatening but with the drug and the aftereffects of wearing that cursed ring… Heika, I know you want to stay close to him, but I'd rather he recovered in the healers' suite where I and my assistants can keep an eye on his progress instead of in your rooms."

Murata saw Yuuri's muscles tense up and knew he was about to argue. "Gisela's recommendation is best, Shibuya. Considering what happened tonight, there's going to be a lot going on in your rooms. Messengers and emissaries coming and going, soldiers making reports, our people and King Jaida's will be up much of the night trying to salvage what we can from this mess. Wolfram will be much better off away from that chaos."

He saw the struggle on Yuuri's face, "I need to be there when he wakes up. I promised."

"That won't be for some time, Heika," Gisela assured him, gazing earnestly into his eyes and showing no sign that she noticed the unusual change. "You can do what needs to be done. I'll know in plenty of time to send word before Wolfram rouses." Then she winked, "Assuming you aren't already at his bedside."

Murata gripped Yuuri's shoulder and tried to relay comfort and encouragement in that touch. "Go on. I'll send his brothers after you when they get here. They'll want to see for themselves that he's safe and well before they have to focus on duty."

Yuuri finally nodded and let Gisela lead him back into the castle and to her infirmary. Murata watched him leave, his stride and demeanor more self-assured than he had ever seen in young Yuuri. And despite everything, he smiled. He looked forward to the journey that resulted in this man.

-o0O0o-

"…After I brought Lord Bielefeld back here, we took him to our healers' suite to sleep off the drugs that his kidnappers gave him under medical supervision."

"I see. Why didn't you take your consort to _our_ medical facilities? Surely our doctors are better supplied and equipped to deal with a critical patient."

Yuuri took a deep, calming breath before responding. He'd been summoned, respectfully, from Wolfram's bedside to give his testimony. That had been more than two hours ago and his temper was fraying.

"As I said before, Lord Bielefeld's injuries were, thankfully, not life threatening. Additional care was not necessary. I'm sure your own physicians assured you of that after their examinations that night."

Lord Merrann nodded absently, his mustache much more relaxed and natural now with the styling wax of the night of the reception stripped off. His eyes, however, did not reflect the ease his posture tried to imply.

"We have their written statements here." He tapped a stack of papers with a long-fingered hand. "In fact, we've heard from nearly all the witnesses now. We have yet to hear from Lord Bielefeld himself."

Not that again. "He hasn't regained consciousness yet."

"How convenient."

The snide stage whisper reached every ear meant to hear it. Yuuri didn't see who spoke. All the nobles in the court room set up for their investigation behaved as if they were equally outraged by the lapse in etiquette.

But he did have his suspicions. Yuuri had been watching one lord in particular and caught the brief flashes of malice on his face. Yuuri remembered him from that night. He'd been harassing the false Wolfram until the threat of a flaming end to his pride and joy sent him practically running from the room. The man held a grudge and devoted his energies to undermining their defense at every opportunity.

A gavel pounding on wood silenced the muttering.

"Please," Jaida's voice demanded the attention of everyone in the room. "You shame yourselves squabbling like unruly children. This hearing may be informal but the reasons for it are serious. We've been at this for days now. We are all feeling the stress. Let us adjourn for the evening and resume tomorrow."

Everyone seemed about to agree when that lord raised his hand. "Before we go our separate ways…"

Lady Kindt covered her eyes and groaned softly.

He shot her a glare before continuing. "I suggest we pay a visit to Lord Bielefeld. He may well be awake by now and able to answer a few questions. We could begin our deliberations that much sooner."

Before Yuuri had a chance to say something very undiplomatic, Jaida slammed her gavel and announced her decision.

"Request denied. You are being unreasonable, Lord Lenchow." Her voice had taken on an edge that set a nervous stir through the gathering. "I have to wonder if your attitude has anything to do with your own comportment toward an honored guest during the reception."

"Of course not, Your Majesty." He put just the right amount of affront at the suggestion in his voice but the reddening of his face betrayed him. "I simply wish to ensure that the man who tried to kill you pays for his crimes."

Jaida's frown, "He did. _That_ man is dead by his own hand."

"We only have their word for that. None of our people were close enough to witness this so-called suicide."

"How do you explain Lord Bielefeld's arm?" a lady he didn't remember meeting asked with barely concealed exasperation. "Many of us saw and smelled the charred flesh after the attack. And we all saw his whole arm when we visited him in their infirmary. You waste all our time with your stiff-necked attitude."

"I only wish to…."

Fed up, Yuuri cleared his throat loudly, drawing everyone's attention to him.

"Do you have any other questions for me?" He didn't give them a chance to say yes. "Then I shall take my leave."

Jaida gave him a respectful nod. "Of course. Thank you, King Yuuri, for your patience. I know you are anxious to return to your interrupted vigil. Give Lord Bielefeld our good wishes when he wakes."

Yuuri stood and bowed, first to Jaida then to the clutch of nobles at the long tables they'd set up for their little tribunal. Murata gave him an encouraging smile as he and his ever-present guards passed him where he sat among the other witnesses called before the council. He'd keep an eye on things. His old friend had made sure to witness the whole proceeding from day one and each night over dinner reported on the progress. Whatever happened, they wouldn't be taken by surprise.

As he made his way back to the ambassador's wing, Yuuri noted the increased military presence: checkpoints, passes to access areas near King Jaida, who knew what else he didn't see. It was a good sign for Jaida's safety but not for their mission. He was losing hope for any treaty between their countries.

His own guards escorted him to the door of the room he and Wolfram shared and stationed themselves on either side. Yuuri gave them each a distracted smile of thanks then went inside.

Wolfram lay curled on his side, still sleeping. Gisela assured him that morning that this was a natural slumber at last, though deep, and he would wake within the day. Gwendal sat by the fireplace at a portable desk covered with papers and messages.

"Has he come around since I left?"

Gwendal looked up from the document he'd been engrossed in. "No. He's changed position a few times so it won't be long now. How goes the hearing?"

"It isn't going anywhere. They keep saying they want Wolfram to testify as soon as he wakes up. As if they're afraid we'll coach him on what to say." He flopped into the armchair by the bed. "I don't get why they won't listen! Their own people's testimony corroborates what we told them."

The eldest brother gave a snort as he began gathered up the paperwork he'd brought with him so the hours of the unexpected stint of Wolf Watch didn't disrupt his duties.

"It's politics, Heika. Each of these lords and ladies has an agenda of their own. If an alliance with Shin Makoku doesn't serve it, they will support anything that disrupts its progress."

More solemn than his usual self, Yuuri reached out to brush Wolfram's mussed hair away from his face. Dark circles still marred his eyes. The blonde youth still looked fragile, but nowhere near as badly as he had before Gisela treated him. The thought of Wolfram having to defend, possibly pay, for actions that weren't his made him sick to his stomach.

Yuuri swallowed and looked Gwendal in the eyes. "What exactly is the punishment for attempted assassination here? And don't try to soften it for me. You, Murata, and the others keep doing that. I need to know the truth."

Gwendal scowled at first, but then his face cleared as he made his decision. "Since we are here as ambassadors, we don't come fully under the jurisdiction of their laws." He leaned forward as his voice took on the tone of a lecturer. "However, assassination and murder, successful or attempted, is another thing. My guess is that some will try to trade a favorable verdict for treaty concessions that put Aeriemille at a distinct advantage over us. Or force the end of relationships between our countries, depending on which faction gets the upper hand."

He picked up his papers and headed for the door.

"And if they decide he's guilty?" He reached out to take a limp hand in his. "What would they do to Wolfram?"

For a second, the gray-haired demon's stoic demeanor slipped and Yuuri glimpsed the anger he so masterfully controlled. Oddly enough, that reassured him more than Gwendal's parting words.

"Nothing," Gwendal promised and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Alone with Wolfram, Yuuri settled back in the thick padding of his chair and closed his eyes. Just to rest them for a bit.

-o0O0o-

His awakening was a long, slow climb into awareness. He felt a down mattress beneath him, warm heavy blankets covering him, and a warmer hand cradling his own. His head felt thick, a sign that he'd slept too deeply for too long.

Wolfram opened surprisingly heavy eyelids just enough to get a good feel of his surroundings. He was in the bedroom that he shared with Yuuri, who was dozing in a chair set up beside the bed while keeping a light grip on his hand. Wolfram frowned. Yuuri looked as if he hadn't slept in days. He'd have to get on him to take better care of himself.

No one else was in the room with them. Wolfram didn't sense anything threatening but after what happened…

Memory drove the rest of the sleep haze out of his mind and he sat straight up in bed.

Big mistake.

Groaning, he fell back on the pillows and closed his eyes against a room swimming fast enough to blur.

"Wolf! You're awake! Don't move! Gisela said you'd…"

That was Yuuri's voice. The wimp's volume hurt his ears. Wolfram opened one eye and did his best to glare at his wobbling fiancé.

"You're not on a farm, wimp," he chided him, his voice and throat dust dry. "Use your indoor voice."

Mama Jennifer said that once when he and Yuuri had gotten a bit loud over a card game during a visit to his Earth. It got him the smile he'd hoped for. Sad and serious didn't suit his Yuuri.

"Sorry. Let me help." Yuuri moved to sit on the bed and eased him carefully into a sitting position. Wolfram clutched at his shirt front and leaned his forehead against Yuuri's shoulder as another wave of vertigo hit him. Yuuri supported him with one arm while piling cushions up behind him, then eased him back into the nest he'd made. Wolfram squeezed his eyes shut and breathed quick and shallow to head off nausea. He was so sick of throwing up.

"Gisela left something for you to drink as soon as you woke up."

Wolfram smelled honey, mint, and something he didn't recognize. He opened his eyes again to see the mug Yuuri was holding under his nose.

"She said you'd be lightheaded and thirsty when you woke up and that this would do the trick."

Gratefully, he took the stoneware mug in his hands and drank a sip. Gisela had done a good job of masking the medicinal taste so it wasn't bad. After a few more swallows, Wolfram leaned back with a relieved sigh as the spin on his vision began to slow.

"Better?"

"Getting there."

Grinning from ear to ear, Yuuri got to his feet, "I promised your brothers and everyone I'd send word if you woke up during my shift. If we were home, you'd be chest deep in stuffed animals by now."

Chest deep? While Yuuri practically sprinted to the door to send one of the guards to spread the good news, Wolfram continued to drink and examine his surroundings with a mind growing more alert by the minute, the wimp's voice a comforting drone to counter his growing anxiety.

Through the gap in the door he saw baggage packed and stacked, ready for loading. The last he remembered, everything had been unpacked for a stay of at least a month. Outside the window, the sun was several widths above the horizon, which meant it was early afternoon. There was snow on the window sill. The weathercasters had warned of snow, but that wasn't supposed to be for days. Most telling of all, a plant in the corner that had been healthy and flourishing when they arrived showed signs of severe water deprivation, its leaves limp and curling in on themselves. That sort of damage didn't happen overnight.

Yuuri returned to his side and flopped into his chair with a satisfied sigh. "They're sending up something for us to eat. If I'm hungry, you just be starving."

"How long?"

"Only a few minutes, I'm sure that…"

"How long have I been unconscious?"

Yuuri opened his mouth and Wolfram knew he was going to try to distract him. "Not long, really." He reached out to pat his hand, like he was soothing Greta after a bad day. "It's nothing for you to worry about."

Wolfram pulled his hand back and crossed his arms, careful not to spill his medicine. "I'm not the wimp here," he pointed out as he did his best to glare. "Tell me the truth. Three days?"

When Yuuri bit his lip, he knew it was worse than he'd thought. "Almost nine now."

Nine. Imposter and his friends had stolen nine days of his life from him. He felt rage burn in his stomach but his body simply couldn't sustain it yet. His hands started to shake and he drank more medicine. He wanted to get back on his feet as fast as possible. After that...

"Where are they?"

"What? Who?"

He gave Yuuri another look and snorted. The Maoh knew exactly what he meant. He was trying to coddle him. He ought to know better by now.

"I know Imposter is dead. What about Tall One and Shorter One?"

The double black pushed up on the bottom of the mug, silently urging him to finish it off. Wolfram obeyed but didn't let him off the hook.

"Well?"

"You just woke up, Wolfram. All that can wait until you're up for it."

"I'm 'up' enough for that. Besides, I very much doubt we have the luxury of waiting. Whoever is behind the attempt to kill King Jaida will try again. We need to know what they know. And," he added, unaware that his fingers tightened around the mug until his knuckles when dead white. "I have a few questions of my own that need answers."

"Hey, take it easy, you'll break it!" Yuuri reached out and tried to take the mug away. When that failed he began rubbing soothing circles on the backs of his hands until they began to relax. "We can't question them, they're…gone."

Something in his voice sent chills across Wolfram's skin, "What do you mean by gone?"

Yuuri stopped the massage to rest his elbows on his knees and his chin on top of his folded hands.

"They just sort of disintegrated into dust. By the time Jaida's people got to the scene, even that was gone. The imposter's body went the same way. Nothing in my world can do that. Murata and Gunter say it's the same for this world too."

If their masters had the ability to do that to him, it was no wonder Tall One and Shorter One were so determined to complete their mission. But why did they want with him alive?

"Wolfram? You've gone white as a sheet. Are you alright? Do you want me to fetch Gisela?"

Shaking the images his imagination had conjured out of his head, Wolfram gave Yuuri a sheepish shrug.

"Just thinking too hard. They were right, though. If any of the four elements are called to destroy something, there are always traces. This is definitely something new."

"And creepy."

Wolfram peered at the black-haired boy over the rim of his mug, "So how's the trial going?" and took a drink.

Predictably, Yuuri got all flustered as he tried to come up with a plausible story or distraction.

"Trial? What trial? All the criminals are dead, there's no need for a trial. Quit stressing yourself or you'll take longer to recover…."

"Never play cards for money, Yuuri." Wolfram finished off his medicine and handed the empty mug to the wimp, who put it on the floor. "It's sweet of you to try to protect me, Yuuri, but I'm a soldier weaned on politics. Let me guess how it went. As soon as the panic was over, the nobles returned demanding instant justice. Without bodies to corroborate our story, I am the only one left to accuse. Someone tried to kill their king. They must be seen to do something to show their loyalty and maintain their positions."

The younger boy stared at him, mouth slightly agape. "How do you figure that?"

"When King Jaida needed them most, practically all of them ran."

"How did you know? You weren't there."

"In a way I was. The ring bond went both ways." He stared off into the space over Yuuri's left shoulder as another wave of memories hit him. "When I was conscious, I saw and heard everything Imposter did. Very disorienting. It wasn't until the very end that I was able to use that to my advantage."

When his eyes moved back to Yuuri's, Wolfram saw that his eyes had gone sad again. Before he could ask what was wrong, he blurted out the reason.

"I'm sorry! I didn't realize he wasn't you soon enough and you suffered for it. I knew something was wrong; I just wasn't smart enough to figure it out. Even when you tried to warn me, I didn't catch on."

"I'm glad you didn't."

"What if…huh?"

This time Wolfram reached out to grab Yuuri's hand. He gave it as firm a squeeze as his condition allowed. "I'm glad you didn't. If my head had been clearer, I probably wouldn't have tried to warn you at all. Imposter would have killed you the instant he realized you were a threat to his plans so you couldn't expose him." An embarrassing tremor entered his voice that he chose to blame on his weakened state. "He threatened to kill you. I worried all the time that he'd do it."

Yuuri squeezed back but pouted, "Still, the others were able to figure it out."

"And you're upset that they didn't tell you." At his downcast nod, Wolfram chuckled. "Why should that surprise you? They know you almost as well as I do wimp. You can't lie to save your life. If you'd tried to pretend Imposter was me, he'd have known instantly. They protected you. I'd have something to say if they hadn't, sick or no."

After a bit, his fiancé raised his head, his expression calmer. A gentler version of his famous smile graced his face.

"I'm so glad you're safe back with me. Don't ever scare me like that again."

Wolfram arched a brow at that. "It's my job to worry about you, not the other way round. Wimp." He smiled to take any sting out of his words. But it wasn't necessary. Yuuri was back on an even keel.

"Won't stop me. And don't call me wimp."

Grins broke out on their faces simultaneously and it felt good.

Someone knocked at the bedroom door. Yuuri called over his shoulder, "Come in."

Wolfram turned, expecting one or both of his brothers, only to see an officious man in the Aeriemille uniform standing in the doorway with a small silver tray balanced on the tips of his white-gloved fingers. Resting on it was a rolled scroll tied with a gold ribbon.

"The Council of Aeriemille rejoices in the recovery of Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld and requests his presence before them tomorrow one hour after dawn to speak to his attempt on the life of King Jaida of Aeriemille."

-o0O0o-

_AN: Wolfram must now stand before a skeptical council and convince them of his innocence. How will they find? What will be the fate of their mission? Just who did try to kill Jaida and why exactly did they want to sabotage treaty talks? Get a peek behind the curtain in __**Chapter 8: Game Masters**__._

-o0O0o-

_Thanks again for reading. Please review and let me know what you think._


	8. Chapter 8: Game Masters

Summary: While on a diplomatic mission, Yuuri and Wolfram visit a merchant's shop, but it isn't Wolfram who walks out.

_AN: Thank you all for your patience. This chapter gave me a lot of trouble. It took a while before I was satisfied with the flow. But at last here is the end of __**With This Ring**__ and hopefully worth the wait. Enjoy and please review and let me know what you think._

_I do not own Kyo Kara Maoh or its characters._

**With This Ring**

**Chapter 8: Game Masters**

"I still think we should have refused to come."

"It wasn't a request, Yuuri, despite the wording."

Yuuri watched Wolfram struggle with the buttons of his dress shirt, frowning. Despite the healers' efforts, his wounded finger was still raw and painful under the bandage. Gisela theorized that traces of the magic that fueled the ring bond spell still remained in his flesh where the ring had been in direct contact. Until it wore off, the injuries had to heal naturally, and Wolfram had only one fully functional hand.

Finished, Wolfram reached for his uniform jacket and held it by the collar as he tried to maneuver his left arm into the sleeve without jarring his hand.

Yuuri got up and took it from him without asking. It hadn't been twelve hours since he finally woke, but Wolfram was already back to his touchy old self. Asking permission to help would only trigger a denial of the need. Playing the valet, Yuuri held the blue coat up and helped Wolfram don it. That got him a grumpy "Thank you."

"It's high time I returned the favor. I can't count the number of times you've helped me." He moved in front of the shorter boy to fasten the brass buttons, taking the opportunity to take a closer look at his face. Wolfram's eyes still weren't quite right, their green nowhere near as vibrant as they ought to be. He needed at least another day of rest before facing off with those jackals. "Are you sure about this?"

Wolfram snorted. "I'll be fine. If they think to rattle me with the timing, I intend to disappoint them."

"Then play it up."

He and Wolfram both turned to where Murata sprawled across the foot of their bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. Seeing he had their full attention, the other double black sat up with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Yuuri frowned at him, "What's on that warped mind of yours, Murata?"

"Leaving out the drunken lecher with a grudge out of the equation, there are still members of that council far too eager to see Shin Makoku take the blame for the attempt on King Jaida. They pushed harder than reasonable for Wolfram to testify as soon after he woke as possible." He winked behind the lenses of his glasses. "Give them what they expect: a spoiled prince pushed beyond his limits and easy to manipulate."

"Why?"

Wolfram, nodding thoughtfully, clarified Murata's plan for him. "If we're lucky, any traitors will give themselves away trying to trick frail little me into incriminating myself and my country. At least we may give King Jaida clues as to who to watch more closely in the future."

Yuuri blew out a lungful of air in frustration. He hated playing politics even as he acknowledged the necessity. With or without a treaty, he just wanted this nightmare to be over so they could go home. He missed Greta and the relative peace of Blood Pledge Castle.

Something must have shown on his face because Wolfram gave his forehead a stinging flick.

"Humph! After what you did in the forest, I thought you were finally starting to get over being a wimp."

"I am not a wimp! Anyway, what happens if you lose your temper?"

His fiancé just rolled his eyes at him. Finished with the buttons, Yuuri stepped back, resigned.

"I still don't like it. If anything goes wrong, if they try to hurt you, the Maoh is going to come out, and frankly I won't try to stop him."

Murata got to his feet, "If it comes to that, which I doubt, do **not** let him, Shibuya."

Yuuri frowned at his friend's hard, implacable tone. They'd nearly lost Wolfram once on this trip. No way was he allowing any other threat near him again! Murata was nuts if he expected him to stand still while the nobles of Aeriemille convicted Wolfram of a crime he hadn't committed.

Wolfram's hand on his arm stopped him from going off on the so-called Great Wise Man. "He's right, Yuuri. Hear him out before you say something you'll regret."

A deep breath. Another. Then, "Alright, Murata, tell me why we should leave Wolfram to their doubtful mercies."

Murata held up both hands, palms out in a placating gesture. "I never said that. We will do whatever we must to keep Lord Wolfram safe. Just without the Maoh. Think about it, Yuuri. Why would the assassins want to take him away with them even after they had no need of him to maintain the deception?"

"Ransom?"

Murata shook his head, light from the lamps and the traces of dawn coming through the windows. "Possible, but not likely. Collecting any ransom means risking exposure. Whoever is behind all this values their anonymity, at least for now. Besides, as a king killer, Wolfram's value isn't high enough to make the risks worthwhile. As a prince of Shin Makoku, it's too high. His kidnapping would trigger a military response."

A light went off and Yuuri finished, "And since part of their plan was to break off relations between our two countries, having demons en masse in Aeriemille for any reason is likely not a result they desire."

Wolfram gave him an encouraging nod and Murata slapped him on the shoulder.

"Now you're getting it." Murata grinned at him but his eyes remained serious. "You said that the Maoh called the magic he sensed either new or old."

"Actually, he said very old."

"Right. My guess is that we are as much of an unknown to the enemy as they are to us. And just like us, they want to learn more. Wolfram is a Mazoku who wields one of the elements and has an intimate knowledge of the inner workings of Shin Makoku government and society. He'd make the perfect specimen."

These people were willing to kill their own to keep their secrets. Yuuri felt the color drain from his face as shocked horror swept through him at the thought of Wolfram as their lab rat.

Wolfram's tightening grip on his arm pulled him back from those dark thoughts. When he turned to that green gaze, the eyes were warm above a rare gentle smile.

"I'm safe now, Yuuri, thanks to you. But they still want to know more about us, and likely have spies here in Aeriemille. We can't ignore the possibility that some of the spy devices we've found in our quarters were planted by them."

Murata agreed. "I doubt they saw what happened after the reception broke up, it was night and the Maoh used his magic to hide your flight from anyone who might have looked up at the wrong time. The less we reveal from now on, the better. You've seen those poker tournaments on television, haven't you?" At his nod, he continued, "The way to win is to keep your opponents from knowing what's in your hand."

That made sense. "Alright, guys, I'll do my best."

"You'll be okay," Wolfram reassured him. "What you know, the Maoh knows. Now that you understand the need, so will he."

"And remember," added Murata. "We are prepared to extract Lord Wolfram if necessary."

Deep inside, Yuuri felt a calmness grow and settle as his own fears eased, and knew they were right.

A knock at the door and Conrad's voice put a halt to their impromptu conference.

"It's time, your Majesty."

Wolfram's fingers slid down his arm to grip his hand briefly. "Ready?"

"Let's get this over with." He offered his arm to the blonde Mazoku to lean on for their dramatic entrance. Green eyes twinkled with merriment before Wolfram settled his expression into his role.

Gunter and Conrad waited for them in the main room of their suite, two guards at the door preventing their Aeriemillian escort from entering. She wore an enlisted man's uniform and, though she looked like a high school girl without a care in the world, everything else about her shouted dangerous efficiency. When the five of them joined her in the hall, she gave a courtly bow, eyes downcast.

"If you will follow me," and turned to the left.

Yuuri called after her, "Wait a sec. The meeting room is in the other direction."

"It has been decided for security reasons to change the location for Lord von Bielefeld's testimony."

A glance at his advisers revealed that this was a surprise to them as well. Gunter adapted smoothly.

"By your leave, Heika, I'll make sure the merchant accounts we opened are closed and settled."

"Thanks, Gunter." Yuuri knew that had already been taken care of. The swordmaster was going to find Gwendal and inform him of the change in venue so he could plan accordingly. Yuuri faced back to their guide. "Lead on."

She took them down so many twisting corridors leading deep into the castle interior, Yuuri was beginning to wonder if it was deliberate. By the time they reached their destination, Wolfram's weakness was no longer feigned. A fine tremor shook the arm he held and his face had lost the color it had gained overnight.

Yuuri knew for sure it was deliberate when their guide opened the nondescript door at the end of an isolated corridor. A long table at the back of the small room sat five, with a gavel before the center chair. Four councilors occupied the outer chairs, including the man who'd harassed the false Wolfram during the reception. He didn't recognize the other three. The only woman, tall with blonde-streaked white hair and a young face dressed austerely in a dark blue dress and overtunic. One of the men looked the way he'd always imagined a wise adviser should: gray hair, wizened face with a sharp gaze that missed nothing. He wore a uniform so had to be high up in the Aeriemillian military. The other was much younger with a high forehead, dark brown hair and eyes, handsome and dressed in a dark gray cloak embroidered along the cuffs and collar in bright blue and gold swirls. Quite fashionable, especially compared to his companions' more austere outfits.

The fifth chair he supposed awaited Jaida's arrival. Built-in benches lined the walls and a podium stood in the center. Outrage burned in his stomach. Beside him, Conrad kept his trademark stoic expression but Yuuri sensed his matching anger.

They meant for Wolfram to testify standing up and had prolonged their journey here to drain his strength first.

Oh, that was it.

Without taking his eyes off the offenders in front of him, Yuuri said one word.

"Conrad."

The middle brother nodded once, a sharp snap of his head, "Yes, Heika," and left the room.

For once Yuuri made no attempt to correct his godfather. These people needed to be reminded that he was King of his own nation. High time they treated him and his accordingly.

Most of the nobles at the table got the message, exchanging nervous glances, no doubt stressing over what he'd sent the soldier to do. Lenchow only had eyes for Wolfram, savoring his petty misdirected revenge.

Yuuri's simmering anger began to boil. Worry quickly replaced it when Wolfram slumped against him. He hurried to catch and support him. If this farce had set back his recovery, someone was going to regret it.

Shielded from the panel of lords by Yuuri's body, Wolfram raised his head wearily to look him in the eyes and wink. Murata moved in closer and placed his hand on the shorter boy's forehead, using that action to cover a warning nudge.

Only then did Yuuri remember what Murata had suggested earlier. Play it up.

"Is his Lordship well?" Lenchow's insincere query intruded.

Yuuri played along, though it didn't take much acting on his part, snapping, "You summoned him here from his sickbed, what did you expect?"

"Demons are healers aren't they?" Lenchow sneered back, "I expected him to be in better condition than this."

Yuuri said nothing, only glared at the man who was too stupid to consider how dangerous the game could get if he kept up the insults that were causing the Maoh in him to stir.

The silence stretched into awkwardness as their staring contest went on. Lenchow looked away first.

"Time's wasting. If the rest of you will take your seats, we will begin the interrogation."

Finally, he had pushed the other three councilors past the point where they were comfortable with breaking protocol. The woman cleared her throat. "The proceedings cannot begin without a scribe and our King present."

Lenchow blithely blew her off. "I am sure they will arrive soon. We can recap what they miss that has any import. Besides, that rule is more a courtesy than a law."

"One you are required to uphold as a Lord and councilor of Aeriemille. Surely you haven't forgotten so basic a tenet of our legal system, Lord Lenchow."

The cool voice of Jaida coming from the doorway killed the slightly smug expression on the lecher's face. The seated lords all stood to give obeisance to their monarch. Jaida stepped into the room, looking very regal in a dark navy blue dress with white lace at the collar and cuffs, and a plain gold coronet atop her loose hair. She was flanked by her bodyguards and followed by a tiny little man clutching a portable writing desk who moved immediately to the side and began setting it up. One guard remained at Jaida's side while the other took up a position where she could see the entire room.

"Nor is this an interrogation," the King of Aeriemille continued, her expression not at all happy. "We are here to gather facts in order to determine the best course of action. Am I clear?"

"Forgive my assumption, My King," Lenchow apologized with a second bow.

Even Yuuri caught the lack of remorse in his posture. Knowing the man so much better than he did, Jaida no doubt picked up even more than that. If Lenchow wasn't already on her hit list, his place was now guaranteed.

"I only wished to save time."

Jaida ignored him, instead coming to stand before Wolfram and give his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It is good to see you on your feet again, Lord von Bielefeld. We worried for your well being. The assault on you is a heinous violation of our honor, that a guest of Aeriemille has been so misused."

Wolfram gave her a bow. Yuuri kept a tight grip on his arm just in case. "Thank you for your concern and kind words, Your Majesty. Know that I lay no blame on you or Aeriemille."

Jaida thanked him. "You still do not look fully recovered. Let us proceed and conclude this swiftly so that you may return to your rest."

Relief eased Yuuri's heart rate. At least they had one friend in this room. With Jaida obviously on their side, the other three nobles on the panel were more likely to listen to Wolfram with open minds.

"Have someone fetch Lord von Bielefeld a chair," she ordered the guard next to her.

Yuuri spoke up, "Already seen to," as he peered over her shoulder at the doorway where Conrad was returning with a wooden ladderback armchair in his hands.

Without a word, he set it in front of the podium and held it steady while Yuuri helped Wolfram to sit before they joined Murata on one of the side benches.

Meanwhile, Jaida crossed the room to take her seat, allowing her advisers to again take their own. Her second guard moved to stand behind her chair. The scribe, quill in hand, inked up, and poised over a sheet of paper, nodded his readiness to his king. Jaida took up the gavel and struck the table surface five times.

"Today we take the witness of Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld of Shin Makoku in regards to the assassination attempt upon Jaida, King of Aeriemille. Witnesses: King Yuuri, Lord Weller, and Lord Murata of Shin Makoku. Questioners: Lady Ollvand, General Sharpe, Lord Docena, and Lord Lenchow. Witness: Lord von Bielefeld. The procedure, Lord von Bielefeld, is for you to relate your experiences related to the attempt on my life. This panel will ask questions during and after in order to clarify points and determine details to help in our investigations. Please begin."

Yuuri tensed up, his hands clutching the edge of the stone bench. He hadn't asked Wolfram what happened to him. After reassuring his anxious brothers that he was perfectly alright – though it was an obvious lie – and a few bites of the meal brought up to them, Wolfram had fallen into a natural sleep. Reality was about to replace the scenarios his imagination had conjured from the moment he realized Wolfram had been taken. He was afraid his mind had been kind by comparison.

-o0O0o-

Wolfram took a deep, steadying breath. He was not looking forward to telling what happened like this in front of Yuuri and Conrart. Family deserved a private recounting, away from prying eyes. Still, he was grateful to have them and Murata at his back for this.

"We had gone on a tour of the upper tier shops with King Jaida acting as our guide. We entered a clothier's shop. The owner, Master Entrow, attended to King Yuuri while his assistant escorted me to the back dressing rooms to try on a jacket I admired. That's when they attacked, three men in black with their faces hidden. Two held me while the third drugged me." No details, he'd decided before beginning his statement. Yuuri didn't need those images in his head.

"What of the man who was assisting you, Entrow's assistant," the older man at the table, General Sharpe, referred to the sheets of paper in front of him. "Alphonse. Did he play a part in the assault on you?"

Wolfram frowned as he remembered. "I don't believe so. He acted and spoke as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. It was as if he wasn't seeing what was in front of him, only what he expected to see."

The councilor nodded and gestured for him to continue.

"The drug took effect quickly. In seconds I was paralyzed, unable to resist when they removed my clothes so Imposter could dress as me. At first I thought it was an attempt on King Yuuri, that they planned to use his similar height and build to get close enough for a clear strike. But then they cast the spell."

Wolfram had to pause. His heart was racing and a fine tremor ran through his entire body. He hadn't expected testifying to cause so visceral a response. He clenched his hands and took another deep breath.

"Imposter wore a red and yellow gold ring shaped like two intertwining fanged snakes on his left hand. Cabochon-cut garnets had been set for their eyes. It radiated evil. As they chanted, the sensation got stronger. His partners maneuvered my left arm so that Imposter's fingers laced with mine. That's when the serpents came to life. The darker one left his hand to coil around my finger. Both serpents bit down and our blood mingled, activating the spell."

Lord Docena interrupted this time. "I've never heard of sorcery like this."

"Nor have I, Lord Docena. It wasn't majutsu."

Lenchow gave a derisive snort, "What else could it have been? We do not practice magic here, while your country is rife with it, you are a practitioner of this majutsu yourself. The assassins must have come from Shin Makoku."

Idiot. "Magic and its practice aren't limited to the Demon Kingdom. Humans have their own form of it, even if no one in Aeriemille uses. It is the polar opposite of what Mazoku practice. The ring bond spell wasn't like any kind of houjutsu I've ever encountered either."

"I suppose we have to take your word for that – for now." His voice dripped sarcasm. "Go on."

Oh, this man wanted to burn! "The spell caused Imposter to look exactly like me. It opened my mind to his trawling. Imposter sifted through my memories, taking whatever he needed to fool my family and friends. It … wasn't pleasant. When I resisted, Imposter threatened to kill King Yuuri as well as King Jaida. Their plan was for Tall One and Shorter One to take me to a waiting ship, all the while keeping me drugged so that I didn't interfere with Imposter's impersonation of me. However, what they did to me – the drugs or the spell, they weren't sure – left me too sick to travel. They didn't dare keep drugging me because my failing health threatened to expose Imposter before he got his chance at his target." His right hand rose briefly to rub his chest where that awful pain had centered. He was not going to mention the fact that he very nearly died, not while Yuuri was listening. He had no intention of telling anyone if he had a choice.

Jaida observed, "You describe your kidnappers rather than name them. Did they never let slip who they were or who hired them?"

Wolfram startled badly at the question. The retelling had triggered a reliving of his experience, causing him to come close to losing track of why he was dredging up those memories. Needles of pain in his left hand pulled his blank stare to his lap. Both hands were shaking fists on his thighs, blood seeping through the bandages on his injured finger. It took him several seconds to relax them.

"Lord von Bielefeld?"

He shook his head. "They never used names, at least not while I was conscious." A frown creased his brow as his mind made a new connection. "And they weren't hirelings. The few times they spoke of who sent them, they said master or masters."

"Thank you, please go on."

"While Imposter was punishing me for trying to warn Yuuri, he let his guard down enough for me to realize the ring bond let me reach him. If I was careful, I had a chance to stop him. So I hoarded my maryoku, played the cowed prisoner, and waited for his next lapse. That came when he was focused on getting passed Yosak to make another try at King Jaida. I called fire and sent it down through the ring bond into his hand. For all he looked and sounded like me, fire didn't know him, so he burned. When my captors realized something had gone wrong, they broke the link between us, drugged me senseless, and tried to escape with me. After that I was too far gone to be a reliable witness. I remember seeing Yuuri's face, knowing I was safe, waking up here yesterday, and being summoned to this hearing."

"Thank you, my Lord. If you will give us a moment?"

The panel of lords huddled with their king and began a whispered discussion. Wolfram took the opportunity to glance back at Yuuri. His fiancé's face had gone white, his hands gripping the edge of his seat so tightly that his knuckles were bloodless. Wolfram tried to give him a reassuring smile but must have failed miserably judging by the deepening concern on Yuuri's face.

When the confab ended, Lord Docena leaned forward, elbows on the table and hand overlapping under his chin. "We need to locate these masters. Did you notice anything distinctive about them that might help us identify the region they came from? Perhaps an accent?"

"No, but if I were you, I'd start the search closer to home."

"I beg your pardon?"

Wolfram braced himself and looked each of the council in the eyes. "During the reception, I listened to Imposter's thought while I waited for my chance. He knew that more than one of the people in that room was there to help spread chaos after King Jaida's assassination."

"What?"

"Impossible!"

"Lies! How dare you make such an accusation?" Lenchow jumped at the chance to make his own. "You're trying to shift blame from yourself and your own people. No one in Aeriemille has a motive to want King Jaida dead."

During the rant, Wolfram watched the faces of the people seated on either side of Jaida, who quietly observed it all. He saw nothing unusual. If any here were in league with Aeriemille's enemies, they hid it well.

Only Lady Ollvand remained silent, a frown on her face. When she tried to speak over her fellows, they raised their voices until Jaida pulled back on their reins.

"Enough! Lady Ollvand, you have something constructive to add?"

"Thank you, My King. First, Lord von Bielefeld made no accusations, only a recommendation. He reported what he overhead in the mind of his captor. Why would the man lie in his own head?"

Lenchow snorted, "Because he knew he had an audience."

"I doubt that," General Sharpe reasoned, "or he'd have prevented Lord von Bielefeld from attacking him."

"Exactly," Lady Ollvand nodded her appreciation. "Second, the panic that spread through the ballroom that night might easily have been deliberately triggered. I heard voices shouting that King Jaida was dead, but I was close enough to see that she was unharmed before the crush of the crowd forced me away. I put it down to panic at the time."

"None of this exonerates him of the attempt on our King's life!"

The lady rolled her eyes. "Oh don't be more of an ass than usual, Jakob. Your own words betray that you accept what this man told us as truth."

Lenchow opened his mouth to argue then left it hanging open like a fish when his brain finally caught up with his tongue.

Jaida gave him the grace of not pursuing the point and getting back on task. "Did anyone here recognize the voices of the people spreading the rumors of my death?"

All shook their heads. Lord Docena spoke for them. "Not reliably enough to bring a case before the court. Anyone we might accuse can successfully argue they only repeated what they'd heard others say, and we can't prove otherwise."

"This is an issue we cannot settle here and now," Jaida concluded for them. "I believe it is clear to all of us," a pointed glance at Lord Lenchow, "that Lord von Bielefeld is a victim, not a conspirator, in the attempt on my life. In fact, his actions and those of his retainer are the reason I am here with you today. Aeriemille owes him a debt and our eternal gratitude."

Wolfram bowed his head to her. Jaida was indeed a sovereign to be reckoned with.

"Are there any other question?" As if she hadn't neatly closed that door. "Excellent. King Yuuri, Lord von Bielefeld, we thank you for your cooperation and assistance in our investigation. Please return to your suites, rest, and let any of my people know if you have any needs. We will meet it if at all possible."

"Thank you, King Jaida."

Jaida set her gavel back down on the table. "Oh, and Lord Lenchow?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"I believe you have something to say before we adjourn."

Wolfram kept his expression neutral while the other man wrestled with his pride. After a pause not quite long enough to be perceived as an insult, Lenchow stood and gave him a full bow.

"I offer my most humble apologies for my crass behavior and my misguided accusations. I pray you take no offense."

Wolfram understood the reason Jaida insisted on this. Pursuing the matter, personally or in the courts, threatened future relations between their countries. Even if he was in the right.

Politics.

Protocol required Lenchow remain in that position until he either accepted or rejected his apology. Wolfram waited for the exact amount of time it had taken Lenchow to make it to say, "None taken, apology accepted. I cannot fault your passionate defense of your King."

Lord Lenchow straightened, and when their gazes crossed before he turned to speak with Lord Docena, Wolfram saw no sincerity in his eyes. That made them even.

With a sigh, Wolfram started to get to his feet. The world tipped drastically to the left. An arm around his waist kept him from an embarrassing spill.

"Easy," Yuuri's whisper reached through the sudden fog in his head. "I've got you. Let's get you out of here and back in bed."

Wolfram gritted his teeth, "I can walk. Just stood up too fast."

"Lean on me if you need to."

He hated to admit it but he needed Yuuri's support by the time they reached the hall and shut the door to the meeting room behind them. Immediately, Yuuri pressed the backs of his fingers against his temple as they walked.

"You look awful but I don't think you have a fever."

"Will you stop that?" Wolfram reached up to push the hand away, shocked at how feeble his strength had become. Even so, Yuuri allowed it, humoring him. "I'm fine, wimp."

"No, you're not. You just kept getting paler and paler, and then you started trembling. If Jaida hadn't put an end to the hearing I would have. I ought to have insisted you rest another day."

Murata opined, "Actually, it's better this way. No one can claim we coached Wolfram before he made his statement."

"As if I'd stoop to lying." For the third time since they'd started back for their rooms, Yuuri tugged him close to his side. Irritable, Wolfram grumbled, "Why do you keep doing that?"

An odd smile quirked Yuuri's lips. "Because you keep drifting to the left.

"Really?"

Both Murata and Conrart confirmed what Yuuri said, the sage with a comical arching of his eyebrows.

"Oh."

"If I may?"

Before he had a chance to argue, his brother came up to his side and swept him off his feet and into his arms.

"Conrart! This is embarrassing!"

His brother just smiled at him.

Yuuri's grip on his hand cut off the tirade he tried to muster the strength for. "Please, Wolf? Just this once, let us take care of you."

He didn't want to need to be taken care of, but the vertigo was still plaguing him and he knew they'd make better time without him slowing them down. And besides, he really was very tired.

"Fine then," he submitted.

They moved quickly now through the hallways back to their rooms. Wolfram relaxed against Conrart's chest, the steady beat of his heart as soothing now as it had been when his Little Big Brother had carried him to bed after he'd fallen asleep reading on the hearth as a child.

Conrart must have been remembering too because his brown eyes warmed with nostalgia as he said softly, "It's been a while since we did this, eh?"

Wolfram nodded, already drifting off. "Let's not make a habit of it."

He thought he heard Yuuri's "Amen to that" agreement but sleep had taken his ability to know for sure.

-o0O0o-

Yuuri paused, a half-folded shirt in his hands, when Wolfram stirred. His soft snoring had faded away some time ago, usually a sign he was about to wake up, but the blonde Mazoku only rolled onto his side and slept on. He finished folding the shirt and packed it away.

The door to their room opened as Murata backed in, his arms full of a tray of sandwiches and three covered bowls.

"You didn't have to do that you know. We could've asked one of the guards or even one of the castle servants."

"Everybody's running around preparing for our departure tomorrow." His bespectacled friend set his burden down on the desk Gwendal had used the day before. "Besides, it gave me a chance to gossip with the kitchen staff. Is he still asleep?"

"Yeah. Don't wake him."

Murata grinned as he picked up one of the bowls and a spoon. "No way. I happen to like living."

Yuuri snorted an abashed laugh. They had returned to their suite to find a furious Gisela waiting for them. She had immediately ordered him and Murata to stay put and Conrad to put Wolfram to bed. After a brief but thorough examination and a change of his bandages, the healer settled her patient comfortably, herded Conrad out in front of her, and closed the bedroom door.

Then she proceeded to read them the riot act. "What in Shinou's name were you thinking, subjecting Wolfram to such a stressful situation at this stage in his recovery? If I'd known I was leaving my patient in the hands of idiots, I would never have allowed him out of my infirmary!"

It went on like that for the next ten minutes, all in a whisper that flayed their consciences without disturbing Wolfram's slumber. It didn't matter to her that all three of them outranked her, not when it came to the wellbeing of her patient. Yuuri hadn't even considered pulling the Maoh card. He happened to agree with her.

Her parting words were to let Wolfram sleep, all day and until their departure in the morning if necessary or pay the price. Remembering the look in her eyes, Yuuri had no intention of finding out what that price was.

The other double black moved to the bedside and held the stoneware dish a few inches from Wolfram's face. "I'm just going to give Wolfram the incentive to wake on his own." He removed the lid and the most incredible smell wafted through the room. Yuuri recognized basil and stewed tomatoes mixed with other delectable scents that made his mouth water.

Wolfram inhaled, took a deeper breath, and opened his eyes.

"What is that?"

Murata moved back so he didn't bump the bowl as he sat up. "Some of the best soup I have ever tasted. If you're good, we'll let you have some."

The fire Demon just held out his hand imperiously. Yuuri bit back a snicker. With an exaggerated sigh, Murata surrendered the bowl and joined Yuuri who had already walked over to the tray to get his share. Soon the three of them were having an impromptu picnic on the bed.

"So," Yuuri asked, "What's the kitchen gossip?"

Murata shrugged, "Oh, the usual. Who's sleeping with whom and shouldn't be. What lordling stole a certain Lady's bracelet and let her innocent handmaiden take the blame. Who's going to be glad to see the back of us when we leave tomorrow."

His mouth full, Yuuri waved his hand for Murata to elaborate.

"Yes, I'd like to hear what's being said too."

Jaida, once again in the simple clothing and hairstyle she preferred, stood in the doorway, a merry smile on her face as she gestured with the twine and paper wrapped packages in her arms. "May I join you? I come bearing gifts."

Wolfram managed a courtier's bow sitting cross legged in a nest of pillows with a sandwich in one hand and his bowl of soup balanced on his crossed ankles. "You are always welcome. We'll have a chair brought for you."

"Don't bother." She put her burden down on the foot of the bed, hitched up her skirts, and climbed up on the bed to settle between him and Wolfram. Jaida then grabbed a sandwich and took a bite. "Mmm, this is just what I needed. I've been in meetings all morning, I am starving! Please continue, Master Murata."

Yuuri elbowed his friend. "_Master_ Murata?"

The Great Wise Man ignored him. "The pastry chef's daughter is a chambermaid. Apparently, she overheard a Lord Seerloft say that Aeriemille did not need the corrupting influence of Demon magic. Others of the nobility share his sentiment."

Frowning when he was unable to find a face for the name, Yuuri asked, "Which one was he?"

"Round face, thinning red hair, a hiccupy laugh," Wolfram reminded him, "and a daughter with eyes for a marriage that will elevate her status."

"Oh," he remembered them now. They'd spoken briefly at the ill-fated reception. The daughter had been very friendly until he mentioned having a fiancé. At least she wasn't a poacher.

Jaida chuckled, "I'll have to remember to warn my brother when he returns."

"Oddly enough, the servants didn't seem to have a problem with our powers. I think it's because they're willing to overlook it as part of the price for the trade an alliance brings. The nobles probably see us as a new player in the game that they don't have counters against."

"They fear a loss of power and status," Jaida explained. "Unless they benefit directly from any treaty between us, certain of my nobles won't care about the benefits for our nation. I wish our plan had worked as we'd hoped. I learned nowhere near as much as I'd hoped to at Wolfram's hearing. I'd wanted a full gallery with people I trusted seeded throughout to watch and interpret reactions. I merely confirmed what I already suspected about Lenchow's alliances."

Murata shared a glance with Wolfram. "So the change in venue wasn't your idea."

"No." She grabbed another sandwich. "That was Lenchow's petty revenge. I'll have to discover if it was his idea or if someone suspected what I was up to and manipulated him to thwart me."

"Which is more likely?" Yuuri asked.

"The former. Lenchow has a very high opinion of himself and tends toward petty if he feels slighted. But it also makes him excellent material for a pawn or toady. At least now I have leverage."

"Huh?"

He felt a thump to the back of his head. "Murata!"

"Don't display your naiveté in front of foreign dignitaries."

Wolfram explained over Jaida's delighted giggles.

"Lord Lenchow insulted an ambassador of a foreign nation, the prince consort of its King. He then tried to save face by accusing said ambassador of a heinous crime punishable by death. For that Jaida can take his lands, his title, everything that matters to him. With that hanging over his head, I'm willing to bet he will be a much more enthusiastic supporter of Jaida before the nobility for quite a while."

That should have been obvious. "I guess I'm just not devious enough."

"Don't worry about it." Wolfram reached over to pat his knee reassuringly. "I'll be devious for the both of us."

Yuuri started to thank him automatically, but hesitated. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of a sneaky Wolfram.

Jaida laughed out loud. "Oh, Yuuri, you have no idea how precious this is! When I deal with my own councilors, they all watch their words carefully and listen even harder for hidden meanings in the words of the others. I'm going to miss having you all around. Oh. That reminds me."

She reached over to grab her packages. Yuuri helped Murata move the remnants of their lunch out of the way and she handed them out. Murata examined the tag at the knot and exclaimed in a pleased voice. "Master Entrow! I haven't had a chance to revisit his shop. How is he doing?"

"Fine. He sends his regards."

Yuuri took his with a brief thank you and proceeded to tear at it like it was Christmas.

Jaida went on to explain, "Each of his creations is like his own child. He's happiest when one, as he puts it, goes to its proper home. When he learned what happened to Yuuri's gift for Wolfram, he became quite upset and vowed to replace it personally with something even better, and more besides in gratitude for the good turn the Great Sage did for him."

"What good turn?" his friend asked as he worked out the knots tying his bundle together. "Other than suggesting that he see a healer I doubt he really needed, that is."

"Your man Yosak managed to use up a goodly part of the Shin Makoku credit chit for his shop before your accountants closed the accounts in advance of your departure tomorrow."

Yuuri grinned just imagining the fun Yosak must've had finding outfits to help him in his line of work with a practically unlimited purse. His grin transformed into an 'Oh' of amazement when he folded back the brown paper to reveal the contents.

A jacket, twin in cut to the one he'd bought for Wolfram, lay in his lap. The material was deepest black and soft as kitten fur without being fuzzy. Thin satin ribbons and black and silver cord had been sewn across the shoulders and in the semblance of flowing water dragons. Looking over to Wolfram, he saw that his was of the same green cloth but instead of leaves green fire danced across the chest. Curious to see what the clothier had envisioned for Murata, Yuuri turned for a look. It was black too but longer and with an evergreen tree spread across the back, each needle and pine cone delicately stitched onto each branch.

"Wow."

Murata didn't have to say a thing. His ear-to-ear grin said it all.

Wolfram traced the edges of each tongue of flame with his fingers, his expression as pleased as a cat feasting on fresh cream.

Jaida, watching it all with satisfaction, told them "I'll be sure to tell him how pleased you are with his gifts."

Wolfram raised his head. "It's magnificent. I like it much better than the other. Although that one was fine too," he hurriedly added.

Shaking his head in amazement, Yuuri wondered aloud, "How did he manage to do all this in such a short time?"

Jaida reached out to touch the soft cloth of Wolfram's new jacket, "Master Entrow is a master of his craft. One look at a person and he can make a suit or gown just for them that no one else can wear as well. He rarely does custom work like this nowadays. You'd be the envy of my court if anyone saw you in these. I know lords and ladies who'd half seriously consider selling their first born for an Entrow original."

Wolfram went very, very still, as if for him time had stopped. Only for a couple of seconds so Yuuri didn't have time to panic.

"He made the gown you wore that night didn't he?" the blonde asked.

Something in Wolfram's voice pricked his attention. A shadow fell over Jaida's expression, tinting her smiling face with something Yuuri didn't know how to name.

"Yes, actually, but it was made originally for my mother. I had Entrow fit it to me personally before the reception. In time, I intend to have my entire wardrobe replaced with Entrow originals." Her lips curved into a grin that set her eyes sparkling as she winked at them. "You saved the life of his best customer."

Wolfram returned her look with one of his own. "Your Majesty is truly blessed, and Master Entrow's gift that much more appreciated. Please give him my personal thanks for his generosity."

"Of course."

Yuuri sighed. He'd missed something again. At least this time, judging by the puzzlement on Murata's face, he wasn't the only one.

Jaida scooted backward on the bed to its edge and stood. "I've got duties to get back to, including preparing the ground for a second meeting between us, though I had hoped for better fruit from this first one."

Even though the final conclusions of the investigation cleared Wolfram and their party of any complicity, the majority of the nobles had insisted negotiations come to an end and the embassy from Shin Makoku leave as soon as possible. Honestly, even Yuuri had been expecting that.

"Believe me I understand what it's like dealing with contrary nobles." Yuuri got to his feet and went over to give her a hug, really quick so Wolfram didn't accuse him of being a cheater. "And if circumstances allow, we will host you. I'd love for you to see Shin Makoku."

"And we can have that picnic we talked about in your gardens. Their fame has reached even here."

"Then it's a deal." They shook hands on it and Jaida peered beyond him to Wolfram and Murata still on the bed.

"Have a pleasant evening."

Yuuri escorted her out the door and closed it. Murata pounced as soon as he heard the latch click.

"What about her gown?" he demanded of Wolfram.

Wolfram leaned back into the piled pillows behind him. "Geika, you weren't there, but Yuuri, did you notice how Imposter tried to set King Jaida on fire and the gown failed to catch?"

"I got there too late to see, but Jaida, her bodyguard, and Yosak witnessed to that. Wasn't that your doing?"

At Wolfram's slow shake of his head, Yuuri gave a low whistle and gazed upon his new jacket with fresh respect.

Murata smirked, "Looks like Lord Lenchow is wrong about a lot more than he thinks."

-o0O0o-

They had gathered, as they always had, in their cavern throne room. At the height of their glory, they had been twenty. Now they were four.

And they were not happy.

Bound by their power, the flowing magma through which they watched their worlds showed them the first meeting of the two monarchs. King Yuuri's ingenuous spirit made it easy for honest men and women to accept and interact with him. As he stammered through his prepared greeting, blushing bright red to the chagrin of his mentors, King Jaida smiled, tossed formality to the winds, and took the first step to friendly relations between their nations.

The scene faded to show the displays of demon magic overpower the spells they had armed their agents with. They reached out and disposed of them. Failure was intolerable. Lastly, it displayed King Jaida's gratitude for the thwarted assassination attempt and the deepening of the friendship between the two monarchs.

"That was a waste of time. Aeriemille will have their alliance with Shin Makoku after all."

"You should have sent better pawns."

"Not this soon in the game. We need a clearer idea of the strengths of these new players. I'm looking forward to cracking a few of these Demons open to see how they work."

"You'd have one now if you had taken my advice. You should have sent better pawns."

"I do not like this new Maoh. He changes the rules. Only we are allowed to change the rules. Let me play with him?"

"No, it's too soon."

"But we can't let Aeriemille gain allies we haven't chosen for them. This game piece is already ours. I intend we keep it."

"The problem lies with Aeriemille's new King. Jaida never made covenant with us. I doubt she ever will. If her fool of a brother hadn't gotten himself killed in that inane duel, we would not be in this position. Jaida is too ethical."

"Then kill her. The next in line has vices that will make him easier to deal with."

"She will die. But I do not want to waste her death."

"Brother has a plo-ot!"

"I want to watch her die. Give Jaida to me, My Sister!"

"No!"

"I want to PLAY!"

"And you will, My Brother. But let my gambit complete its run. When I am done, a King of our choosing with sit upon the throne of Aeriemille, all hope of an alliance with the Demon Kingdom will be dust in the wind, and you My Brother will have Shin Makoku. Then you can play with all the little demons you want to your heart desire. For as long as they last."

-o0O0o-

_AN: So ends my first multi-chapter story. Thank you for sticking it out with me. I hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I enjoyed writing it. But this is not the last of Aeriemille. I've got two other stories in the works right now, but this adventure will continue once they are well underway. Please review! See you soon!_


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